


It's Always Been You

by chchchchcherrybomb, vinegar-and-glitter (vinegarandglitter)



Series: In the In-Between [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Best Friends, Bisexual Evan Hansen, Bisexual Zoe Murphy, Blow Jobs, Bookstores, Bottoming, Condoms, Courtroom Drama, Daddy Issues, Depression, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Gay Sex, Gen, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lawyers, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sharing a Bed, Suicidal Thoughts, Top/Bottom Versatile Connor Murphy, Top/Bottom Versatile Evan Hansen, Vomiting, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-01-06 17:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 425,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18393437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chchchchcherrybomb/pseuds/chchchchcherrybomb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinegarandglitter/pseuds/vinegar-and-glitter
Summary: Evan and Connor haven’t died since Connor’s 27th birthday and they’re counting that as a win. As Evan starts his law career and Connor prepares to take over the bookstore where he works, they’re the only people they can talk to about what happened to them, the only people who understand.And if they have sex sometimes (all of the time), that doesn’t mean they’re more than friends, right?Sequel to In The In-Between.





	1. March (The Month After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Connor don't die.

**March (The Month After)**

After getting breakfast with Connor, Evan went home for a few hours, sort of buzzing from the high of having finished the bar, finally, and lived for days without dying. He felt almost buoyant, almost relaxed, almost normal for the first time in ages.

It was weird.

Evan felt weird.

And his mom was coming to visit.

So Evan took some time to clean up around the apartment. Made a trip out to the grocery store to pick up some food seeing as his apartment was pretty low on things that weren’t peanut butter or granola bars, and that was the sort of stuff Evan knew made his mom worry. He hated it when she worried. It was basically the worst thing about having a single mom, was knowing how likely he was to worry her, give her gray hair and frown lines.

And then the buoyancy he had from the morning, from the diner, fizzled.

Evan felt sort of… unsure about seeing his mom.

His mom had always known that Evan… wasn’t quite right, quite well and he was sort of scared to see her because what if she said “I told you so?” Regardless of that anxiety, Evan still had to go pick his mom up from LaGuardia and that meant he had to get his shit together a little.

Mattie and Alex had both texted letting him know they would be off work that night and wanted to meet his mom, and he was still trying to accept that huh, his roommates actually didn’t hate him. They hadn’t met over the weekend when Evan had graduated from law school because he had stayed in a hotel with his mom and tried to convince her that he didn’t need to walk at graduation.

And also he hadn’t mentioned to his roommates that he was graduating. That was a thing.

On the Lyft ride to the airport, Evan got a text from Connor - his first text from Connor, actually. _“Hope you have fun with your cute mom this weekend!”_

Evan rolled his eyes, but his amusement did make it easier to get a smile pasted onto his face when he arrived at his mom’s gate. It took about twenty minutes for her to actually appear, because Evan was early, but when he spotted her Evan did smile. She was looking around, eyes bright, and it occurred to him that he actually had missed her a lot when he was dying. He missed getting to talk to her about stuff didn’t fall into the script of “how was the bar?”

“Evan!” He heard her say, having apparently picked him out of the crowd. She hurried toward him, smiling, beaming really, and he always thought his mom had a good smile. When he was little he used to tell her it “looked like sunshine.” Evan hurried forward, and pulled his mom into a tight hug because he had died and relived the same day enough times to know that you hugged your mom if you had the chance, damn it.

When they pulled apart, his mom smiled at him brightly. “How are you?”

“Good,” He said, because he always told her that but today it was partially true. “How was the flight?”

“I hate flying,” Heidi said. “But it wasn’t bad. I sat next to a baby.”

“By themself?” Evan asked, amused.

“No, they had a mom,” Heidi said. “But the baby was the one who kept trying to make conversation with me. Very cute.”

Evan laughed. “Did you check any luggage?”

“Nope! I pack light,” She said, grinning, showing off a small bag over her shoulder. “When we get out of here, I’m taking you to lunch, don’t argue.”

And so it began. Evan did his best not to roll his eyes. “Alright. Any place in particular you had in mind?”

“Maybe that Thai place we tried when I visited over the Fourth of July?” She had come to visit him after his first year in law school, and the Thai place in question had been Sabrina’s favorite.

“Sounds good,” Evan said, putting the restaurant into his phone and ordering them a Lyft back. He had to do it immediately, before his mom got her phone out.

“Damn it, Evan, I was going to call the ride,” She said, but she was smiling fondly, this wasn’t a _Damn it Evan I haven’t heard from you in weeks and Sabrina told me you moved out, what is going on?_ Or even a _Damn it Evan, I asked you to take out the garbage._

It was light and teasing and not quite what they did but he thought they could make it work. “Sorry,” He said, not sorry at all.

They kept things light in the Lyft back into the city proper, his mom saying how her descent into New York had been so clear that this time she could see the Statue of Liberty on the landing, and Evan asked if she was going to actually let him take her this time, since the last few visits she had refused.

“Maybe. But I’m more excited about meeting these doctors you live with.”

Evan tried his best to smile. “I mean, they’re really busy -”

“And you said she goes by Mattie, not Matilda, right? The British one?”

“Yeah, Mattie, and she’s only half British.”

“And Alex is just Alex? Not Lexie or Alexandra or anything?”

“Why are you suddenly worried about knowing people’s names?” Evan asked, teased. “Early Alzheimer’s?”

His mom rolled her eyes. “Who raised you to talk to your mother like this, huh?”

Evan laughed.

“I just don’t want to be rude,” She said. “It’s not often you actually let me meet your friends.”

Which was because Evan didn’t have any friends, really, but that was definitely something that would give his mother wrinkles. When he and Sabrina started dating, he put off having them meet until almost nine months had passed and even then it was mostly because his mom had started to crack jokes that Evan and Sabrina were hiding an accidental pregnancy.

“And what about the one who had the birthday earlier this week? Uh… Caleb?”

“Connor.” _Damn it,_ Evan had forgotten about mentioning him.

“Yes! Do I get to meet him?”

“Uh,” Evan said because he hadn’t even considered that. “I think he’s working all weekend? But I can ask him?”

“That would be great!”

Evan pulled his phone out of his pocket, texting Connor, _“Okay so my mother wants to meet you. You are working all weekend and unfortunately aren’t available. Cool?”_

Connor’s reply was almost instant, _“I’m not working *_ all* _weekend.”_

Evan could have strangled him.

_“Dude moms love me. I will totally meet your mom.”_

Evan could really, really have strangled Connor. _“Maybe not a great idea to introduce her to the guy I died with a bunch.”_

 _“Sounds like you should have thought of that before you mentioned me,”_ Connor replied and Evan frowned at his phone.

“Is that him? Does he want to come out to dinner with us tomorrow?”

“He’s working,” Evan said firmly. “Sorry.”

“What does he do?” Heidi asked, and Evan explained about the publishing company and the bookstore and watched his mother’s eyebrows almost travel right off of her forehead and into orbit around her face.

“Wow,” His mom said. “That… how does he afford to live _here_?”

Evan shrugged but he had a feeling the answer started with “trust” and ended with “fund.” He and Connor hadn’t really taken a deep dive into each other’s finances since they had become reacquainted.

After sitting in a bit of traffic, Evan and his mom finally made it to that Thai place and got settled into a booth where an unexpected beam of sunlight had landed.

“So how are you doing after the bar?” His mom asked after their server had taken their orders. “You look tired, sweetheart.”

“I’m alright. I feel pretty good about it,” Evan said. “It was… pretty tiring, though.”

“And you’re sleeping okay?” She asked, and it wasn’t as convincingly innocent as Evan knew she thought it was.

“I’m fine mom,” He said shortly. “How’s work for you?”

HIs mom smiled fondly, and started to tell Evan about some office drama happening because one of the other paralegals was going on maternity leave and there was some suspicion that the baby daddy was actually one of the partners at the firm, not her boyfriend, and Evan liked getting lost in his mom’s story, liked knowing these details, the small stuff that made her days up.

After lunch they headed back to Evan’s apartment, and his mom smiled when they walked inside, commenting that she always thought this place looked more like a “real New York apartment.” Evan thought that this meant she thought it was small, but he didn’t really care. He could afford it. His roommates didn’t hate him.

“So, Alex and Mattie took you out for dinner on Wednesday?”

“Yeah,” He answered. “Italian. It was really nice of them.”

His mom gave him a smile, one he knew was covering up some relief, that he had friends, that he talked to people, that he wasn’t just wallowing away in the wilderness of his own brain.

His mom dropped her bag in his bedroom, and the two of them headed back out, because his mom wanted to explore his neighborhood and Evan wanted to make her happy. They took the stairs, his mom asking curiously if they had roof access?

“Yeah,” Evan said, feeling a bit breathless, surprised. “We can use the roof if we want.”

“That must be nice in the summer!” His mom said.

“Yeah,” Evan said vaguely, because the only time he had been up there had been winter.

When they reached the front door, Mr. Abrahamson was in the lobby, checking his mail. “Hey Mr. Abrahamson,” Evan said. “How are you?”

“Old,” He said, smiling at Evan. “How are you? And who is this lovely young woman?”

His mom’s face went pink. “This is my mom, Heidi.”

“ _You’re_ his mother?” Mr. Abrahamson said, surprised, taking his mom’s hand and shaking it. “You can’t be old enough to be his mother!”

His mom’s cheeks went even pinker. “Trust me, I am.” She smiled. “Are you neighbors?”

“Yes ma’am,” Mr. Abrahamson said. “You’ve got a good kid here. Polite. Shame he decided to be a lawyer.”

Evan laughed and his mom looked like she wasn’t sure if she ought to be offended.

“He likes to give me hell about taking the bar,” Evan explained. “He used to be an attorney.”

“A bad one,” Mr. Abrahamson said. “But Evan’s a good kid. He’ll be good. Trying to save the world.”

“I know. I got a good one,” His mom said, smiling at Evan fondly.

Evan felt his face heat up.

“Nice to meet you,” His mom said to Mr. Abrahamson, and then they set off. Out of Evan’s building, down the block, and into a nearby cafe because his mom had said she needed some caffeine.

“Your neighbor is nice,” His mom said while they waited for the drinks.

“He is,” Evan said, deciding now wasn’t the time to tell her about how Mr. Abrahamson was in AA and also kept trying to convince Evan to pick any other job than one in law. It felt like a weird thing to bring up.

They collected their drinks and grabbed a seat in a booth, and his mom started in on him again. Always smiling, always positive, but Evan still felt like he was being interrogated. “So,” She said. “How is the job hunt?”

“Good,” Evan lied. He wasn’t doing much job hunting yet. He had contacts, knew people in firms who specialized in environmental law, but without having his results from the bar, it was unlikely he would get anymore more than a phone conversation. “A couple of places want me to keep in touch, let them know if I pass the bar.”

“When,” His mom said with a smile. “When you pass.”

“The power of positive thinking,” Evan said, but it came out more sarcastic than he meant it and his mom’s smile dulled. “Sorry,” Evan said quickly. “Sorry. I just. It was… pretty stressful and. I’m sorry.”

“Of course,” his mom said, and she straightened her smile out a little. “Of course, sweetheart, I’m sure it was.”

Evan took a sip of his coffee. It was still too hot.

“Are you doing alright? Now that it’s over?” His mom asked.

“That seems loaded,” Evan said and it was definitely rude, caustic, and fucking hell why couldn’t he just be nice to his fucking mother.

“Evan, I’m not -”

“I’m fine,” He said, pointedly. “I’m okay, alright?”

“Okay.” His mom said, nodded, frowning. “I’m sorry, that’s not how I… I just. You know. I’m your mom. I worry sometimes.”

“I know.” He looked down at his coffee cup. “You don’t need to worry. I’ve got it under control.”

Lies lies lies.

“I know, honey. I know.”

She didn’t though.

He let her sort of dictate the plan for the next few hours. They wandered into a few stores, mostly clothing, and Evan let his mom buy him a new tie “for interviews” because he knew she wanted to be helpful and it was actually nice. Maroon, thin. He did like it.

“Is that a bookstore down there?” His mom asked as they left the clothing store.

“Yeah, I think,” Evan said, distracted, not paying attention because he was currently working to find an exit strategy because he really needed a cigarette and he was not going to smoke in front of his mother. “Why don’t you go on ahead? I… I have a little bit of a headache? I’m just going to stop by that Walgreens and get some aspirin.”

“Oh, I’ll come with you -”

“No, I got it. We always take forever in bookstores,” Evan added. “So I’ll just meet you there.”

“Okay,” His mom said, though she didn’t exactly look happy. “I’ll see you there in a few minutes.”

“Great.”

He headed off in the pharmacy and once his mother was out of sight, lit a cigarette and rubbed a hand over his face.

This was harder than he thought.

A lot harder.

She just. Got under his skin. She worried too much and he couldn’t stop her worrying. Evan felt like shit because here he was, lying to her again. Here he was, trying to fake this for her.

Like, if the universe had been trying to teach him a lesson with the whole death loop thing, he was clearly too stupid to learn it. He wasn’t any different. Things weren’t suddenly better. He should have told her not to come, he shouldn’t have gotten out of bed today, fuck.

Fuck.

Evan finished his cigarette and then actually bought some aspirin from the pharmacy, dry swallowing two pills before heading to the bookstore his mother had headed. Evan walked quickly, hoping maybe she might get distracted by a book, something to keep her attention until Mattie and Alex got home…

The bookstore was called The Little Book Nook and suddenly Evan realized where the fuck he was standing.

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

He had just let his mother go into the bookstore where Connor worked, unsupervised. Why not just _tell her_ he had died a bunch of times at this rate? Fuck.

Evan rushed into the store, trying to formulate some excuse to drag her out of there but when he stepped inside there she was, looking at a shelf of new releases and talking to Connor, asking his opinion on something, and maybe he just needed to go outside and walk in front of a bus because this could not continue to be happening.

“Evan?” Connor looked at him, surprised. “I thought your mom was visiting this weekend?”

“You know Evan?” His mom said, turning to Connor.

“Uh, yeah, we’re friends…” Connor said and this big fucking grin had broken out on his face because he had obviously worked out who he had just been talking to. “I’m Connor.”

“Heidi!” Evan’s mom said, and she was shaking his hand aggressively. “So nice to meet you.” She turned to Evan who felt rooted to the spot near the doorway. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you say anything I said I wanted to stop here?”

Evan had no answer so he just shrugged and then his mother continued to just talk to Connor. Like that was normal.

“Evan told me he went out for a drink with you on your birthday this week,” She said, all sorts of pleasant. “And I figured you must be important if he wanted to see you in the middle of sitting the bar exam.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Evan said, embarrassed, his face heating up.

“Evan’s a good guy,” Connor said, still smiling like Christmas had come early or something. “So… Mrs. Hansen-”

“Heidi, seriously. I was never Mrs. Hansen. I was almost Mrs. Balls, though, but then I decided not to take my ex-husband’s last name.”

“Balls?” Connor mouthed at Evan and Evan was grateful for the millionth time that his mom had insisted he take her last name, not his dad’s, when he was born because his life was enough of a joke without having tried to go through it as Evan _Balls_.

“Heidi,” Connor said, smiling, trying to get back to whatever he had tried to ask her. “Can you tell me anything else about the book you were looking for?”

His mom launched into the details of some book of essays all of her coworkers were raving about and Connor nodded thoughtfully, saying he thought he knew what she was looking for and showed her to the appropriate section. Evan, meanwhile, was trying find a way to leave his body in this bookstore and project himself onto another plane of existence.

“I was totally right,” Connor said, smirking as he appeared beside Evan. “Your mom? Super cute.”

“Oh my god,” Evan said quietly. “I’m so sorry. I did not mean to ambush you.”

“What? Oh my god, you’re fine. She’s great.”

“Yeah,” Evan said vaguely.

“So… Mrs. Balls?”

“Oh my god, I _know_ ,” Evan said, shaking his head. “She gave me her last name. Obviously. Worked out too, considering my dad’s -” Evan stopped himself because now was not the time to get into what, precisely, he thought his father was. He had a long list. A loooooong list. “My dad’s not around.”

“Ah,” Connor said, nodding. He tilted his head slightly, looking at Evan closely. “You doing alright?”

“Fine,” Evan said because he was fine, he was always just. Fine. “Mom’s… It’s great having her here, but the timing?”

“Yeah,” Connor said.

“It’s not exactly like I could ask her not to come,” Evan went on. “She would have freaked out.”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “That sucks.”

“It’s fine.” Evan looked over to where his mom was happily reading the inside cover of another book, the first one tucked under her arm already.

“If my mom was in town, I could at least pawn her off on Zoe,” Connor said, nodding.

“Yeah being an only child sort of sucks that way.” Evan shrugged. “We can get out of here, I’m sure you’ve got other things to do.”

“Dude, the store’s practically empty right now,” Connor said, shrugging. “There’s no rush.”

But Evan really wanted to rush because he wanted to rip the bandaid off of this interaction with his mother because he just knew what was coming next.

And he was right the moment they left the store, about forty five minutes later. “Connor seems nice.”

“Mom don’t start-”

“I’m just saying he was very polite. And not bad to look at either.”

“Gross,” Evan said because his mom just said Connor was hot and Evan had _slept with him._

“Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m dead, Evan,” She said dismissively. “He’s cute. You should ask him out.”

“ _What_?”

“I think he would say yes.”

“I’m… no. We’re friends mom, don’t. You don’t even know if he likes guys!”

His mom rolled her eyes. “Sweetheart, his fingernails were painted,” She said like Evan was extremely dense for having missed this.

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Evan said, frustrated and feeling his face getting hot. “Painted nails are not international code for being gay.”

“I never said gay, I said he had painted fingernails.” His mom looked exasperated. “He could be bi or pan or something!”

Evan could not hear her discussing this because he had definitely had Connor’s dick in his mouth and he might not be sure what the details of Connor’s identity were but he had a feeling “straight” wasn’t a word he would use and he was not going to enlighten his mother about how, exactly, he knew this. He could not have this conversation with her, he was going to die of embarrassment.

“I don’t even like him that way,” Evan said eventually, trying to shut the conversation down.

“Uh-huh, sure, and you and Sabrina were ‘just friends’ at first too,” She said and then immediately looked like she wanted to take the words back. “I, uh. Shit.”

“It’s okay,” Evan said awkwardly because he knew exactly what she was thinking. “I know she got engaged. That’s good news, you know? Good for her.”

“Honey, I know but… You two were together for four years. And you’ve only been broken up, what, a year and a half?”

“Why does that matter?”

“It just seems… fast,” She said, frowning.

“It’s fine, mom, really,” He said, trying to sound like that was his final take on it, like he was fine and it was done. “She’s happy. That’s a good thing.”

“You’re allowed not to be okay about this,” His mom protested. “When I found out your dad was getting remarried -”

“It’s not the same thing, okay?” Evan snapped and his mom looked affronted and he regretted it. He regretted it so much. “Shit. Sorry, that’s… I’m sorry.” He tried to backtrack. “I shouldn’t have interrupted you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” She said, smiling in a way that looked sort of painful, like she had to fight hard to get it right.  “You’re fine with it and I shouldn’t try to put my feelings on you.”

Evan felt colossally stupid for shouting at her. “I’m sorry.”

“I… I just thought it was shitty of her to put it all over facebook when she did,” His mom said eventually. “It felt petty.”

“It’s not like she knew when I was taking the bar,” Evan said, because that was true. He had originally planned to wait and take it in the summer. He had originally planned not to graduate until May.

“So you aren’t talking anymore?” Evan’s mom asked him.

“We haven’t been, really, since we broke up?” Evan said because he had definitely told her that. Her face clouded with worry and Evan thought, shit, maybe he had kept it vague, more like they talked sometimes… Shit. “It’s not a big deal,” Evan said. Mumbled. Like he was in trouble, like he was grounded or something.

“Alright,” His mom said. “Sorry for mentioning it.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

They made it back to Evan’s apartment just as the sun was starting to set, both of them keeping a bit quieter than they had before his mom had mentioned Sabrina.

Evan unlocked the door and they walked inside, Evan switching the lights on. The apartment was empty, even though Alex and Mattie had promised they would be home before six. His mom set her bags down, heading into the bathroom. Evan resisted the urge tell his mom to be careful in there, that there might be some kind of death loop portal in there, instead focusing on taking his coat off and heading into the kitchen to get himself some water.

Evan heard the door open, “Hey sorry we’re late!” Mattie’s voice called. “This bus totally flipped over in midtown, and everything at work was mad!”

“Hey,” Evan said, stepping out of the kitchen.

“Where is she?” Alex said, looking around excitedly. “I thought we were meeting Mama Hansen!”

“Ignore her,” Mattie said, smirking, “She’s got mommy issues.”

“She went to the bathroom,” Evan said with a laugh. “I didn’t hide her or anything.”

“Who is hiding?” His mom said, confused. “Hi!” She turned to Alex and Mattie, who both smiled.

“Oh my god! Evan, you didn’t mention your mom was hot!” Mattie said.

“Gee, wonder why that didn’t come up,” Evan muttered while his mom’s face flushed a bit.

“This is Mattie,” Evan said. “And this is Alex.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alex said politely, waving at Evan’s mom.

“It’s great to meet you both,” His mom said, smiling. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

That was a damn lie because all Evan told her was that his roommates were doctors and that they were nice and, as of literally Wednesday, that they had taken him out to dinner.

“Evan said you were such a badass,” Mattie said. “You went back to school to become a paralegal while you were working full time as a CNA? That’s hardcore.”

His mom was really blushing now. “I just… Wanted to set a good example for Evan,” She said awkwardly.

“And then he went and became a lawyer,” Alex said.

“Not yet,” Evan mumbled.

“Soon though!” His mom said brightly. “He’ll be a lawyer soon enough.”

“Yeah, he totally nailed the bar,” Mattie said.

“Excuse me,” Evan said, hurrying off toward the bathroom, where he cracked the window and smoked a cigarette so he didn’t freak the fuck out in front of his mom and his roommates. He noticed his hands were shaking a little and swallowed hard, trying to get them to hold still. He reached for his phone, to check the date, to be positive it was really Friday and he wasn’t looping again.

It was Friday.

He had finished taking the bar and, God willing, he would be a lawyer.

He had a text from Connor. _“Dude your mom is great.”_

 _“I think you’re abusing the privilege of having my phone number,”_ He replied, trying to soak up the feeling of talking easily with a person who understood.

_“Oh so maybe I shouldn’t text you stuff like… Maaaaaaaaanhole?”_

_“Fuck off.”_ Evan texted, exhaling shakily. Then he worried he might seem rude, so he added an _“lol”_ to indicate it wasn’t hostile.

So apparently he and Connor were actually doing this. They were talking. To each other. Now that they were done dying. That was… different.

Evan was pretty exhausted honestly. His roommates being all friendly and meeting his mom… Connor still texting him, running into him with his mom and having her harrange him about asking the nice boy from the bookstore out… Having only recently stopped reliving the same day.

That was a lot.

This was maybe too much.

He finished the cigarette and flushed the butt and then said a silent apology to the entire earth because that was bad for the environment. Then he sprayed some of the eco-friendly bathroom spray he had bought because at this point he would rather his mother and roommates think he was constantly shitting than secretly smoking. He washed his hands and took a breath and walked back into living room, where Mattie was talking to Evan’s mom about a vaginal birth she had assisted with while Alex was just… in the kitchen.

“Are you cooking?” Evan asked Alex.

“I cook,” She said, shrugging. “I’m cooking.”

“You’re cooking… on purpose?”

“Your mom’s here,” Alex said, shrugging. “I thought it might be nice.”

“You’re… since when do you cook?”

“Always?” She said. “I dunno, it was learn to cook or eat cereal forever.”

“All you eat now is cereal,” Evan said, smiling.

“Yeah, but that’s because I am exhausted. I _could_ cook something if I wanted.”

“Right.”

Alex made fettuccine alfredo, from scratch, and it was actually really great and Evan was honestly impressed. His mom was even more so. She was absolutely raving about the food.

Alex and Mattie made great conversation with Evan’s mom. They made her laugh, and Evan could see how she was relaxing, enjoying herself, and Evan felt himself relaxing too. If his mom was happy then he got to relax.

Eventually, after most of a bottle of wine, Mattie almost fell asleep in her food and Alex decided they ought to call it a night.

His roommates having retreated to their bedrooms, Evan and his mother began the fight he knew they would have. “You should take my room.”

“I am more than happy to sleep on the sofa,’ His mom said, like it was already settled.

“You flew here, you deserve a bed!”

“You took the bar exam this week,” His mom said.

“Mom.”

“Evan.”

He frowned. “It would make me really happy if you just took my room,” He said.

She laughed. “That’s a dirty trick, you know.”

“I’m trying to be a lawyer,” He said, shrugging. “I’m full of dirty tricks.”

So his mom took Evan’s bedroom.

And Evan found himself not sleeping on the sofa. Just. Not sleeping. Evan felt edgy, keyed up, the opposite of relaxed or sleepy. He tried to scroll through facebook but kept running across Sabrina’s posts about her trip to New York, pictures with people who used to be their friends, posts about her ring and how it was a lab grown diamond at her request and he couldn’t look at that so he tried to go on Reddit but then somehow he ended up on a thread about people who couldn’t sleep and that kind of freaked him out, stuff like knowing after a few days without sleep you could hallucinate and whatever, and wasn’t it funny that when he kept dying and dying sleep came a lot more easily, he could just shut his eyes and be out and was it possible his body was still dealing with the trauma of all of those deaths, and it was absolutely crazy absolutely insane and bonkers and bizarre and unreal that he was just sitting here not sleeping and thinking about all of the times he had died all of the times he had died and died on purpose because he had done that more than once and Connor probably didn’t even know that and if he did he wouldn’t want to talk to Evan and and and before long Evan could hear, rather than feel, that his breathing wasn’t right.

_Fuck._

He sat up as best he could, tried to do the shit he was never good at, like trying to focus on his breathing to actively slow it down but his chest felt too tight, his heart hurt and squeezed too tight, and Dr. Sherman in high school said something about grounding so he tried to make his mind focus on the television and the feel of the sofa under his hands and the charcoal colored rug in the living room but he had died in the living room and he woke up once and the television was gone and the rug was gone and the mirrors all of the fucking mirrors had disappeared and Evan closed his eyes tight tight tight because he was not dying he knew what dying felt like and he was no fucking dying he wasn’t and -

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Evan opened his eyes.

“Okay, baby, look at me,” His mom said, coming to sit beside him, taking his hand in hers, giving his a tight tight squeeze like she was showing him he was real and she was real and solid and present. He looked at her. “We’re just gonna sit here,” She said in this calm soothing voice. “And we’re going to breathe, okay? You’re gonna try to breathe with me.”

He nodded but he didn’t follow her instruction because his body was doing this without him and when that happened sometimes he died he died and died and died.

“Okay, Evan,” His mom said, her voice louder now. “You can do this. Just. Breathe with me, alright?”

Alright.

Okay.

She took in a long breath and he tried, he did, but it was more of a gasp and so he tried again, and it was shaky, rattling around his chest, but it was… deeper. Slower. He exhaled and tried again. And again and again, his breathing gradually and ever so slowly becoming even beats rather than ragged gasps.

“Good job,” She said, and his mom smiled and there was no reason to be smiling. “Let’s just keep breathing, yeah?”

Yeah. Okay. He kept breathing, and slowly slowly slowly his breaths fell into sync with his mom’s, slow and deep and even.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” He said, his voice ragged. “Sorry.”

She squeezed his hand and Evan squeezed back. “Sweetheart,” She started, her voice soft and sad. “I thought… You told me this wasn’t happening as much.”

Fuck. “Yeah, well, I lied okay? I. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Evan,” She said, her voice serious. “I’m your mother. I’m going to worry no matter what.”

“But I… But I know this makes it worse,” He said, mumbled, not able to look at her. “I know you-you think I’m messed up and broken and. You’re right, okay? You’re right, and you’ve always been right and I’m not. I’m not normal, I can’t... “

“Oh, Evan,” She said and her face crumpled like she might cry and he looked away again. “I don’t. You’re not broken. I’ve never thought that.”

“You don’t have to lie,” Evan pushed on. “I know… I’ve always known, you got a-a dud for a kid who’s too nervous to, like, exist and you tried to-to fix me in high school and I should have listened but I didn’t because-”

“Honey, stop,” His mom said firmly. “You’re not broken. I think… I just think maybe you could use a little help. But I can tell you’re… I can tell you’re in pain, and I am your mother. I never want you to be in pain. I want you to be okay.”

“I’m trying,” He said pathetically. “It’s just not working.”

“So maybe you need a little help?” Her voice was soft, gentle. “Nothing… There’s nothing shameful about getting help.”

Evan sighed because she was full of shit.

“It’s like… tutoring.”

“Tutoring?” He repeated dubiously.

“Yes. Like how in undergrad you had to pass that calculus class? You went to tutoring every other day for most of that semester, and you got there.”

“I got a B,” He said bitterly.

“And some people failed, Evan. You… A B is great honey. You’re too hard on yourself.” She squeezed his hand again. “I know, you don’t… You don’t like the idea of going to therapy and obviously you’re an adult and I can’t force you but -”

“Actually, I uh. I made an appointment with a therapist.”

“You did?” His mom sounded surprised.

“Yeah.”

“Wow.” She was quiet for a moment. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Because I’m crazy?”

“You’re not crazy,” His mom said dismissively. “I know it’s not easy to make that call. And you did it. That’s a big step.”

“I guess.”

She rubbed a hand across his shoulders, comforting and familiar, and Evan took a shaky breath. “You’re going to be alright.”

Evan did not know if he believed her.

He didn’t know if he even could.

But he figured he couldn’t really lose much trying to believe her. Honestly.

Early Monday morning, Evan took his mom back to the airport. She pulled him into a super tight hug outside of her gate, then pulled back and took his hand. Squeezed it tightly. “You’re going to be alright, sweetheart.”

“Okay.”

“And I’m only a phone call away if you need me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Evan pulled her into another hug, because fuck, she was a good mom and he really did miss her a lot of the time. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” She said, and she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Be safe,” He said as she headed off toward the gate.

She waved at him before she headed into the security line.

Evan sucked in a deep breath. Because he was going into work late today, because he wasn’t done doing hard things quite yet.

The ride back into the city took a while, but he had budgeted for that. He arrived at the office building, heading up to the fifth floor and finding a small waiting area. A sign sat on a coffee table, and Evan caught his breath looking at it. “Welcome! If our door is closed, it means we are still in session. Please feel free to enjoy our waiting area, and someone will greet you when they are ready.”

Evan sat in a chair near the mouth of the waiting room, eyes focused on the number of closed doors ahead of him. He chewed his fingernails, picked at his cuticles, his leg jiggling anxiously because he didn’t especially want to be doing this.

Maybe ten minutes later (because he had been early), a door opened. A woman in her mid-forties, with steel grey hair cut short and a sensible sweater, stepped out of it. She smiled politely and took a few steps toward him. “Evan Hansen?”

Evan stood up, trying to smile politely. “Yes.”

She extended a hand. “Marcia Rosenbaum.”

Evan shook her hand, suddenly aware of just how sweaty and clammy his was, how nervous he must seem.

“Please come in.”

* * *

 

 

It’s weird to be grateful that time’s moving the way it should, but Connor’s definitely grateful. He’s also grateful to no longer be dying over and over again, because that had not been fun.

 

The first few weeks of being back in linear time, as Evan put it, had been… well, Connor had been cautious.

 

Cautious about everything.

 

Like, to a stupid degree. He’s still a little wary of the murder stairs and has slid down them on his butt on a least a dozen occasions since the whole death loop thing had resolved itself, just in case. He’s cautious when he’s plugging in his phone to charge because he really, really didn’t enjoy getting electrocuted. He’s cautious about making sure he’s chewing his food thoroughly so he doesn’t choke, and while it’s definitely more time-consuming, apparently it’s better for your digestion.

 

At least, that’s what Evan said when Connor told him.

 

Evan always seems to know some kind of interesting fact that’s relevant to any given situation or topic. Connor points it once when they’re having breakfast at yet another diner, about 2 weeks after, and Evan goes a little pink then starts very hurriedly explaining in what looks like almost painful word-vomit that he’d always found it really hard to talk to people so read a lot of ‘interesting fact’ books and lists so that he’d have something interesting to say but it’s probably weird and he can stop if it bothers Connor.

 

Connor assures him that it doesn’t bother him. At all.

 

In fact, he thinks it’s kinda endearing.

 

Obviously, he doesn’t say the last part to Evan’s face, because he doesn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.

 

He thinks that he’s the most cautious around Evan.

 

Evan, who he managed to talk out of jumping off the roof on a night that didn’t happen but happened a million times.

 

Evan, who’s taken the Fucking Huge step of seeking treatment for his mental health stuff and is still trying to figure out new medication and getting a handle on therapy, which are things that Connor remembers from his senior year of high school and through onto college.

 

Evan’s a survivor, and he’s stronger than Connor thinks he thinks he is, but he’s also still in a vulnerable place, and the thing that really freaks Connor out is the fear that his therapist doesn’t know how bad it really was.

 

Connor’s suicide attempt in high school landed him in a 72-hour mandatory psych hold, and while it definitely wasn’t the most fun place to be, at least it meant that he had to start taking it all fucking seriously. He had to accept that things had to change, that he had to get the help he needed, because… well, nearly dying had scared the living shit out of him, to be perfectly honest.

 

But Evan’s suicide attempt wasn’t a suicide attempt. He’d died.

 

He’d actually fucking _died,_ and it was only because time decided to do something completely insane that he’s not still dead now, and if Connor hadn’t been there on that roof with him, he’d be dead all over again.

 

And it’s not like he can tell anyone about it.

 

Evan can’t talk to his therapist about how he actually, genuinely, _literally died_ because that’ll get him sent straight to the psych ward. And, okay, fair enough, because what happened to them was fucking insane and telling people something that no one’s going to believe is a kind of stupid move.

 

Connor gets that Evan’s not going to tell his therapist he died. He gets that, and he gets why.  

 

But that means that Evan’s not being completely honest with his therapist, and that might mean he’s not being honest as to how bad things really got for him.

 

And if Evan’s not being honest about that, then he might not get the help he needs and if he doesn’t get the help he needs, then Connor might not be there if Evan decides to climb the stairs to the roof of his building and…

 

Connor’s cautious around Evan, but it’s a weird sort of cautious. Now that they’ve got each other’s numbers, it’s easier to stay in touch, and Connor’s gotten into the habit of texting Evan at least once a day. Just to check in, to see if he’s doing okay. Evan doesn’t always reply straight away but he always replies and something inside Connor relaxes a little when he hears from him.

 

Connor has never ever in his life had someone he’s made a point of talking to every day.

 

He actually likes it.

 

They have drinks the following Friday after work. Evan confesses that he’s got a prescription for a medication and that he can’t bring himself to fill it, so Connor says he’ll go with him.

 

The pharmacy is a few blocks away, and it’s almost exactly between the bookstore and Evan’s apartment. Connor gets his own medication here, because it’s on the way to work for him, and while they’re waiting for the script to be filled, they poke around the aisles idly and Connor ends up picking up some shampoo.

 

“I think this is the first time I’ve run out of shampoo before I ran out of conditioner,” Connor says conversationally. “You ever notice how you always run out of conditioner first?”

 

“Truly one of the great mysteries of the universe,” Evan mutters.

 

Connor can tell he’s on edge, and Connor’s not really sure what to do, so he just keeps talking about shampoo, and he can’t tell if this annoys Evan or entertains him but he looks a little less stressed. When Evan’s medication is finally ready and Connor’s paid for his shampoo, they set off to go their separate ways. Before they depart, Evan grabs his hand and squeezes it. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

 

“Any time,” says Connor, and he means it.

 

Since they don’t live that far away from each other, they manage to hang out in person relatively often. Evan works - a lot - and always seems on the verge of complete exhaustion, but if Connor suggests they meet for a drink, nine times out of ten Evan’s more than happy to either meet up at a bar or meet up at one of their places.

 

Evan drinks a lot, Connor notices. He’s pretty sure Evan could drink him under the table if he really tried but it’s also possible that the trying would result in one of them having to have their stomach pumped, so he’s not about to try to enter into that particular competition.

 

Connor also gets the impression that Evan does most of his drinking alone, and that’s… not great. Especially with new meds. Especially with…

 

Well, Connor’s never really been someone who has friends or who considers themselves caring or observant or whatever, but he talked Evan Hansen off a fucking roof and now he has a vested interest in keeping him alive.

 

What starts as keeping in touch quickly turns into Evan becoming an important part of Connor’s life. For whatever reason, the universe has thrown them together, and while before all this Connor had never really given the universe a second thought, now he feels like it might be onto something.

 

Because Evan is…

 

Kind of fucking great.

 

Evan’s smart - like, genius smart - and Connor’s always been convinced that the world is full of idiots, so it’s a pleasant change. He’s also got a great sense of humor that borders on dark, which Connor has always enjoyed. Evan works hard and he puts way too much pressure on himself, but you could never say that he doesn’t care - he’s someone who cares a lot and that’s new and weird to Connor, the whole idea of caring.

 

It’s also kind of satisfying to get to know Evan because… well… he’s had questions. Questions ever since he read that letter in high school. Evan was always so quiet, so barely-in-the-background, and he had a hard time getting words out and always seemed terrified and Connor kind of felt like they had nothing in common except both being kind of losers, and then there was the letter and it was like Evan put down in words what Connor had been struggling to express, even to himself.

 

Connor had wanted to know what Evan was like back then, but he’d fucked it up and he’d blown up at him and then it had just been too much to try and connect, not with everything he had going on in his head.

 

So being friends with Evan now, an adult Evan who’s working toward being okay, is kind of awesome. Connor’s not exactly a mental health guru, but he knows what it’s like when things are that bad. And he knows how hard it is to climb out.

 

And for the first time in his life, he genuinely, honestly wants to help someone.

 

So fucking weird.

 

Time travel or whatever has made him kinda sappy.

 

It’s been three weeks since the Tuesday that never ended when Connor finally gets up the courage to have a talk to Gladys. It’s near the end of the night on a Saturday, which is one of his usual three day shifts, and Gladys is doing some bookkeeping at the counter while Connor rearranges the YA literature shelf to display a book by a new YA author that he genuinely thinks deserves more attention than it’s getting. It’s set in the nineties, which Connor’s all for, and it features a queer romance and strong friendships and he’d basically devoured the whole thing in one sitting, he’d enjoyed it so much. He makes a mental note to write a quick review card and feature it as a staff pick.

 

The store is empty and Connor finishes up with the shelf and heads back to Gladys, who’s looking at him with a patient expression like she’s expecting him to say something.

 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says, as deliberately casual as he can. “What’s the plan for the store over the next… five years or so?”

 

Gladys looks at him, warm brown eyes questioning. “Well,” she says matter-of-factly. “I’m certainly not getting any younger. So I suppose the answer to that question is that I don’t quite know yet.”

 

“Would you sell it?” Connor asks.

 

Gladys tilts her head a little, as if considering. “Martha and I have had offers,” she says, “but they’ve been from bigger chains. They say they’d want to keep The Little Book Nook running exactly as it is, but we know better. We’ve seen what happens - small changes, then bigger changes, then all of a sudden it’s part of the chain and everything that made this store special gets filtered out.” She shakes her head, her expression a little sad. “I don’t think Martha’s heart could take seeing this store bought out by someone who wanted to change it.”

 

“What if someone who really cared about it was interested?” Connor asks, feeling his heart start slamming against his ribcage. “Someone who loved it, and wanted to keep it… keep it feeling like it does now?”

 

Gladys looks at him with those sharp but warm brown eyes. “What does it feel like now?”

 

Connor takes a moment to reply. “Like home.” He immediately regrets it. “Fuck, sorry, that’s cheesy.” Then he regrets. “Shit, sorry for saying fuck.” This is not going well. “Fuck.”

 

Gladys raises an eyebrow, then smirks. “I’m seventy-four years old,” she says mildly, “it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

 

Connor runs his hand through his hair in frustration. “I feel like I’m losing control of this conversation,” he admits. “I just…”

 

“Are you thinking of making an offer to buy the bookstore, Connor?”

 

Connor feels his face go bright red. “I’m thinking about it, yeah,” he mumbles. “I guess… I just wanted to talk to you about it, and see if you thought the idea was, like, completely crazy or whatever.” He nods, then continues, feeling a little embarrassed. “I know that you’ve asked if I wanted to go full-time here and I’ve said no because of the publishing company, but… this place means a lot to me and I’d hate to see someone who doesn’t care about it take over. And I’d hate to see it close down, because it’s been here for so long and that kind of history is important.”

 

Gladys looks at him for a long moment. “I don’t think it’s completely crazy,” she says, her tone matter-of-fact. “You’re young, and while you do have Leatherbird, you don’t exactly have much experience with business management. But you’re smart, and you’ve always been driven while you’re here. I’ve known you since you were twenty-one and there’s a reason I’ve offered you full-time work. I’d hoped you’d be interested in a management position eventually, but you just hadn’t seemed interested.”

 

Connor feels his face go hot. “I’ve kind of… I can’t really explain it, but the last couple of weeks have been weird for me, and I’ve… I’ve thought a lot about what’s important to me and what makes me happy.” He laughs a little. “Not to be super fucking cheesy, but life is short, you know?”

 

Gladys nods, a wry smile on her face. “I’m aware.”

 

Connor clears his throat, his face still bright red. “I guess… I’m not in a hurry, you know? I don’t want to rush things, I want to… do it right. So maybe if you’re still interested, I could go full time and start learning the ropes of, you know, managing the place. And then we could talk about me buying the business and what that would mean.”

 

Gladys looks thoughtful. “We’re not in a hurry, either,” she says carefully. “But we do need to start thinking about the future. Martha and I have discussed it and haven’t really come to any solid conclusions.” She looks at Connor intently. “I’d need to talk to Martha about you buying the business,” she continues. “As for going full time - honestly, I’d be grateful if you could. My health isn’t what it used to be and I’m finding things a little taxing.”

 

“I can start as soon as you need me,” Connor offers quickly. “I just… this isn’t, like, a whim. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I just kind of needed a bit of a kick to actually talk to you.”

 

He doesn’t mention that the kick in question involves dying upwards of a dozen times.

 

“Let’s talk after the weekend,” Gladys says decisively. “We’ll both take a moment to think and process and not rush into anything too quickly.” She smiles at him. “But I’m glad to hear that you’re interested, Connor. I think you could do some really great things with this place.”

 

Connor’s not quite brave enough to talk to Evan about his discussion with Gladys until a few days later when they’re standing in the kitchen at Connor and Andi’s apartment late in the evening, drinking rum that Evan had brought over and eating soup and garlic bread.

 

“Still think this is a weird combination,” Evan says, looking at his meal dubiously. “But I guess tomato soup and garlic bread makes a weird kind of sense.”

 

“You eat garlic knots with marinara,” Connor points out. “This is just a variation.” He dunks his garlic bread into his soup and eats it. “By the way, I talked to my boss about buying the bookstore.”

 

Evan drops his piece of garlic bread to his plate and beams at Connor. “You did? What did she say?”

 

“We’re going to take it slow,” Connor explains. “She needs to talk to her wife, but it’s sounding like it… you know, it might happen?” He rolls his eyes, feeling a little self-conscious under the weight of Evan’s gaze. “I mean, she didn’t laugh at me or anything, so that’s… well, it’s a bonus.”

 

“That’s so cool,” says Evan, still with that million-watt smile. “That’s amazing, Connor.”

 

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Connor confesses. “Like, at all. I don’t even… fuck, I don’t even know if I can afford it? I mean, I have my trust fund, but I don’t know how much property costs.”

 

Evan’s smile drops a little. “Dare I ask how much your trust fund is?”

 

Connor tells him.

 

Evan’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. “Holy fucking shit.”

 

Connor shrugs and looks at his soup, letting his hair fall over his face so Evan can’t see how fucking embarrassed he is right now. “I don’t… I don’t really touch it,” he says awkwardly. “Like, I haven’t taken anything out of it? This apartment is super cheap and my salary at the bookstore covers it, and I, like… I mean, it’s there if I need it, and I get that’s more than a lot of people have and I’m really fortunate and really lucky and I don’t, like, _want_ to take that for granted, you know?”

 

Evan doesn’t say anything for a while. When he does speak, his tone is deliberately even. “I think you’d have enough to buy a bookstore,” he says. “It’d take a pretty big hit, but provided you didn’t run the whole business into the ground, it seems pretty solid in terms of risk benefit analysis. The Little Book Nook’s been around for like 30 years, right?”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, nodding. “And, like, we talked about me coming on as manager first and kind of learning the ropes and taking it all slowly so we keep everything as smooth as possible.” He laughs a little. “So it’s not like I’m going ‘here’s some money, I’m buying your bookstore next week’ or some shit. I want to… I want to do this right.”

 

He chances a look back at Evan, who’s frowning. Connor remembers vaguely from going through school with Evan that the Murphys are a lot better off financially than Evan and his mom - he knows Evan’s dad hasn’t been in the picture since he was eight and that things were hard for them financially. He hopes he hasn’t pissed Evan off.

 

“I think that makes sense,” says Evan with a nod, and it occurs to Connor that the frowning might not actually mean Evan’s pissed off, it just means he’s trying to figure something out in his brain, which is… totally fair. Connor knows that he had resting bitch face all through high school and that’s why people thought he was a fucking psycho, so he’s no stranger to his outward expressions not quite matching the internal thought process. “I mean, buying property isn’t a completely irresponsible investment. And you said there’s an apartment above the store that you could live in, right?”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor with a nod. “Gladys and Martha lived there for years but had to move out a few years ago because Martha struggled with the stairs.”

 

“Well, even buying a property to live in is a good investment,” Evan points out. “So a property you can live in and run a business out of… that sounds great. Of course there will be things we need to check, to make sure everything’s above board, but I can help you with that.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Evan kind of blushes and ducks his head. “Well, yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I’m a lawyer. Well, I will be a lawyer.” He bites his lip. “Well, I might be a lawyer, if I actually pass the bar.”

 

“Still no results, huh?” Connor asks sympathetically.

 

Evan actually laughs. “I’m not going to hear until May,” he reminds him. “End of April or early May.”

 

“Right,” says Connor, frowning a little. “That sucks.”

 

“I know.”

 

“That, like, really sucks.”

 

Evan laughs again. “I know.”

 

Connor passes him the bottle of rum and Evan pours them both a glass, and they finish their soup, garlic bread and the rest of the rum in pleasant conversation.

 

It’s not the first time they catch up for a late dinner and it’s not the last. Once Connor’s full time at The Little Book Nook, he starts off working from 10am to 8pm weekdays, giving him an actual weekend which is a novel concept. It’s a more than 40 hour week, which he originally thinks he’ll find a bit much but in the end, he’s actually learning a lot and really enjoying himself. Since Evan’s prone to working ridiculous hours, they often end up finishing around the same time, and they end up eating together a lot. Sometimes out at a diner, sometimes at one of their apartments - whatever works.

 

It’s nice. It’s really nice, in fact.

 

After everything, Connor figures that the universe must feel like it owes him something good.


	2. April (Two Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan joins the 27 club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends. Please make sure you're checking the tags before you embark on this chapter! 
> 
> Also, please note that this fic will update Monday/Wednesday/Friday between 6 and 7pm Central Time.

April (Two Months After)

 

It’s the second week of April and they’re meeting up for a Wednesday dinner when Evan lets it slip that it’s his birthday on Saturday. Connor asks him about his plans and Evan kind of fumbles around for a bit, then confesses that he’s kind of freaking out. 

 

“You turned 27 and something completely fucked up happened,” Evan says, and his voice is shaking a little and Connor’s kind of glad they’re at Evan’s apartment eating Thai food rather than out in public, because he knows that Evan wouldn’t want to be this vulnerable in public. “I just… I’m terrified I won’t make it through the day alive.”

 

Something cold grabs Connor’s stomach and he instinctively reaches for Evan’s hand. “We got through this once,” he says firmly, “and if we have to, we’ll get through it again. We just… we helped each other, yeah? We had each other’s backs. So if it happens again, we just… we have each other, okay?”

 

It sounds completely insane and stupid and Connor’s still not convinced that they can fix what’s clearly some kind of anomaly in space and time through the power of fucking  _ friendship _ , but he is convinced that for some reason, the universe has decided he and Evan are connected so no matter what, they won’t be alone. 

 

“Okay,” says Evan, looking like he doesn’t believe him at all. “I mean, it’s impossible, right? It’s… but it was impossible the first time and it happened.” He looks at Connor, and his eyes are big and frightened and Connor feels like someone has reached into his ribcage and grabbed his heart in a tight grip. “It did happen, right? I’m not… I didn’t… you’re not just humoring me, right?”

 

“It happened,” Connor says immediately. “It did. It… I remember it, I… I remember how it felt to…”

 

“To die,” says Evan, and Connor has to put his food down because he’s not hungry anymore. 

 

“Okay,” says Connor after a moment. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll… we both have Saturday off, right? We’ll spend the day together. We’ll hang out in one of our apartments and watch movies or read or whatever and if the universe decides it’s going to be an asshole, it’ll have to deal with both of us. Together. Okay?”

 

Evan lets out this tiny sigh of relief and Connor is struck with the realization that if the universe had a face he could punch, he’d do it if it would keep Evan safe. 

 

Things don’t quite go as planned. Garrett, who usually works the Saturday shift, calls on Friday to say he’s not coming in and Gladys asks Connor, a little reluctantly, if he wouldn’t mind covering. 

 

Connor usually wouldn’t mind but with Evan’s birthday, he almost says no, before realizing that if he’s taking this whole ‘buying a bookstore’ thing seriously, then he’s got to show that he’s reliable, and that Evan would probably kick his ass if he turned it down. 

 

So after work on Friday, he calls Evan and tells him there’s been a change of plans. Evan sounds disappointed, and Connor hates it. 

 

He’s also sounding more than a little freaked out. 

 

“Why don’t you come and hang out at the bookstore?” Connor offers. “There’s this really nice spot in the corner where you can read, and we have a whole shelf that are, like, reading tasters? As in, they’re worn copies of books we sell so people can sit and read for a bit and it’s not super weird.”

 

“Reading in a bookstore seems rude,” Evan says, his tone cautious. “Like, I get reading in a library, but in a bookstore? They’re there to sell books, not let people read them for free.”

 

“No, you see,” Connor tries to explain, “reading is awesome? We have this shelf of books in different genres and we change them up every month and then there are signs that say ‘if you liked this, try this!’ and we do actually make sales from that.” He can’t help but grin. “It’s one of the reasons why I love the place so much. I was there all the time in my undergrad, I swear.”

 

Evan doesn’t sound super convinced, but he eventually agrees. 

 

On Saturday morning, Connor wakes up just after 6, which is ridiculous because he doesn’t have to be at work until 10. He texts Evan happy birthday, figuring he’ll see it when he wakes up, but gets a reply mere seconds later. 

 

**Why are you up so early?**

**I could ask you the same question.**

**Excited about turning 27?**

 

There’s a pause for a while before Evan replies. 

 

**Kind of freaking out, actually.**

 

Connor starts throwing on some clothes, putting together a plan in his head. 

 

**Breakfast?**

 

Evan replies immediately in the affirmative and they agree to meet at a diner in half an hour. It’s the one they had breakfast in a few days after they escaped the weird time loop, and Connor remembers the food being good. When he gets there, Evan’s already there, sitting at the table, ripping a napkin into tiny pieces. 

 

He looks pale and scared and Connor absolutely hates it. 

 

“Hey,” he says, sliding into the seat across from Evan. “Happy Birthday. I was thinking I’d get scrambled eggs.”

 

This has the desired effect of Evan scowling and rolling his eyes, which is an improvement from looking so fucking scared. When the waitress arrives, he ends up going with coffee and pancakes, and Evan orders the same, and then, just to be an asshole, Connor asks if he can have some scrambled eggs on the side. 

 

The waitress nods and Evan sends him the dirtiest look and Connor cracks up laughing. After a moment, Evan starts laughing as well and the day starts to feel a little bit brighter. 

 

They have a leisurely breakfast, but they’re still well finished by 8.30. It’s a little overcast, but it’s not cold, so the two of them walk to The Little Book Nook and end up arriving at around 9. 

 

Connor’s not usually here this early on a Saturday and he’d done everything he needed to the night before to close, so there’s really not a hell of a lot to do for the next hour until the place opened, so he gives Evan a quick tour and then sets him up in the spot by the window next to the shelf with the books for reading and sits on the cushions for a while, just kind of watching Evan looking at the books. 

 

“I haven’t read a book for fun in ages,” Evan confesses as he looks through the shelf. 

 

“Define ages.”

 

“Since before law school.”

 

Connor looks at Evan in utter disbelief. “Okay,” he says once he’s finally gotten his head around it, “that’s awful. That’s a full on  _ tragedy.  _ You’re staying here and reading a goddamn book or two today and that’s settled.”

 

Evan kind of smiles this soft half smile and nods. “Sounds good.”

 

It’s not a slow day, but it’s not a busy one, either. It’s steady, and because it’s a weekend, there are a bunch of kids, which Connor always likes. There’s a little girl in a princess costume who wants a book about how spaceships work, a boy who very shyly asks Connor if there are any books about frogs and a couple of teens going through the YA section who decline Connor’s offer of help but eventually one of them comes over and asks Connor if he has any recommendations for queer love stories with a happy ending, which Connor can definitely appreciate. He checks in on Evan as the day continues, who’s absolutely engrossed in something non-fiction that’s about climate change and seems happier and more relaxed than Connor’s seen him in a while. 

 

Evan heads out to pick them up something for lunch around two, despite Connor saying that he didn’t have to, and for the half an hour he’s gone, Connor’s got this weird lump in his stomach because what if something falls on him, what if he falls down a manhole, what if he gets hit by a bus? When he comes back with sushi, Connor’s so fucking relieved he can’t help but smile and kind of has to pat Evan on the shoulder to prove that he’s real and that’s probably really creepy but Evan looks like he understands so maybe it’s okay. 

 

The rest of the day goes by pretty quickly and at around 7.30 when there’s no one in the store, Evan comes to the counter with a pile of three books, announcing that since he’s been here all day, he’s going to buy something. 

 

Connor insists on giving him the employee discount, despite his protests. 

 

“That’s completely unnecessary,” Evan says. 

 

“Keep complaining and I’ll buy you the books myself,” Connor replies. 

 

“You already paid for breakfast,” Evan counters with a frown. 

 

Connor shrugs. “You bought me rum on my birthday.”

 

“Technically I didn’t, because time reset itself.”

 

“Still counts.”

 

“Oh my god, Connor.”

 

Once Connor’s successfully given Evan an employee discount, he also gives him a Little Book Nook branded tote bag, which Evan tries to decline but Connor insists on. Then he sets about making sure the store is ready for closing and when no one’s there at ten to eight, he decides it’s okay to close early. 

 

Then they’re outside The Little Book Nook, looking at each other. 

 

“So,” says Connor, “what do you want to do next?”

 

Evan shrugs. “I’m kind of… peopled out,” he admits. “I know Alex and Mattie are home tonight, so… maybe your place?”

 

“You don’t want to see your roommates?” Connor checks. “Last I heard you guys were hanging out more.”

 

Evan shakes his head. “They don’t know it’s my birthday,” he admits. 

 

Connor just looks at him, feeling horribly sad for a long moment. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

 

“I didn’t want to,” says Evan quickly. “Can we get some alcohol and some food and go back to yours?”

 

“Sure,” says Connor, getting the ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ vibe loud and clear. They start walking in the direction of Andre’s liquor store. When Evan realizes where they are, he laughs a little. 

 

“I haven’t been back here since,” he admits as they stand outside.

 

“Me neither,” Connor confesses.

 

“I kind of… that last time?” Evan says hesitantly. “I made an idiot of myself in front of your friend, it was all… but I don’t know if he’ll remember, because I don’t know what that last time was outside of… us.”

 

Connor gets it. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “I know. It was like… both things happened at the same time. I remember you pulling me back and stopping me getting hit by the Alana bus, but I also remember you on the…”

 

He trails off because he doesn’t want to say it. 

 

Evan looks at him, his eyes big and sad. “You remember me on the roof,” he says gently. “You talked me out of it. You talked me down.”

 

Connor’s throat is dry. “Yeah,” he manages to say. “Yeah, I did.”

 

Evan’s still looking at him. “I don’t know if I thanked you for that.”

 

Connor tries to shrug. “It… I didn’t do it for a thank you.” 

 

(He remembers Zoe, standing in a room with no furniture, her face white and her hands blood-stained, saying almost the exact same thing.)

 

“You saved me, too,” Connor reminds Evan, because he thinks it’s important to point out. 

 

Evan looks like he’s going to say something, or argue, but instead he nods, and puts his hand on Connor’s arm and lightly squeezes it. 

 

Then they head inside the liquor store, where Andre’s reading  _ Wuthering Heights _ behind the counter. “Solid choice,” says Connor, and Andre puts the book down and smiles at them. 

 

“Hi,” says Evan, a little awkwardly. 

 

Connor has no idea what Andre remembers about any of those nights, but figures he may as well keep the conversation light. “How’s Celeste?”

 

Andre’s eyes light up. “She’s great. I have a photo of her dressed as Frida Kahlo, want to see?”

 

“Absolutely,” says Connor, and he can see Evan kind of smiling out of the corner of his eye. Andre scrolls through his photos, then shows them the picture of the four-year-old in costume, and Connor has to admit, she looks badass. 

 

“She looks badass,” says Evan with an approving nod. 

 

Andre looks a little surprised. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other,” he says. 

 

“We went to high school together,” Connor says when it becomes obvious Evan doesn’t know what to say. “Didn’t really know each other then, but recently we realized we lived close by, and, well… we’ve been hanging out.”

 

Andre laughs. “I don’t even want to think about what this guy was like in high school,” he says, giving Evan a smirk. 

 

And, okay, yeah, that stings a little, even though Andre’s got no idea what Connor was like back then, but Evan’s expression softens and he looks at Connor with a small smile. “He wasn’t that bad,” Evan says, and Connor is honestly surprised. “We were both kind of lonely kids, I guess.”

 

Andre’s laugh fades out and instead he just nods. “Yeah, it was like that for me, too,” he admits. “I used to read a lot.”

 

“Used to?” says Connor dryly. 

 

Andre laughs again, but this time it’s softer. “You could escape into a book,” he says, and there’s something kind of wondrous in his voice. “It made me feel less alone - meeting all these characters, all these people, seeing all these worlds and going through all these experiences.”

 

Connor’s nodding now, because that’s exactly it, that’s exactly what made him love books as a kid. What makes him love books now. 

 

“I was an English literature major,” Evan says, and Connor looks at him, surprised. 

 

“I didn’t know that.”

 

Evan shrugs. “Double major in English literature and Environmental Science.”

 

“Whoa,” says Andre, clearly impressed. 

 

“And then he went to law school,” Connor continues, because it looks like Evan’s not going to mention that. “Evan’s a genius.”

 

Evan turns bright red and Connor just grins at him and Andre laughs. 

 

“It’s good thing you’re a genius,” says Andre, clearly amused, “because Connor can be a bit of a dumbass sometimes.”

 

“Fuck you,” says Connor with a grin. 

 

“Ask Connor to tell you about the time in college he stole a wheelchair from the drama department and tried to go through the McDonald’s drive through on it,” Andre says to Evan. 

 

“Ask Andre who was pushing the fucking wheelchair,” Connor shoots back.

 

“I’m just saying,” says Andre with a huge smile, “it’s a good thing you two found each other. This guy is definitely going to need a lawyer one day.”

 

Evan starts to say he’s not officially a lawyer just as Connor thanks Andre, and they both end up laughing. “We’re here for booze,” Connor announces. “It’s Evan’s birthday.”

 

“Happy Birthday,” says Andre with a smile. 

 

“What do you recommend for rum?” Connor asks Andre, and then Andre’s listing off types of rum and Connor’s nodding like he knows what he’s talking about and in the end, Evan ends up stopping Andre mid-sentence with one he likes and Connor’s not sure if he’s actually picking it or he’s just overwhelmed with choice but somehow he manages to convince Evan to let him buy it for him, so he considers that a win. 

 

While they’re on the way back to Connor’s apartment, they decide that Thai sounds good and manage to find something they’ll both eat on UberEats, and Evan’s the first one to put the order through, which Connor’s a little bit annoyed about because it’s Evan’s birthday and he shouldn’t have to pay for things but Evan’s putting his foot down. 

 

“You bought me breakfast and rum and gave me a discount on my books,” Evan points out as they cautiously make their way up the murder stairs and into the apartment. “You’ve done more than enough.”

 

“You only turn 27 once,” says Connor, and Evan rolls his eyes so aggressively it makes him smile.

 

“Trust me, I’m hoping I’ll only turn 27 once,” says Evan, and Connor laughs. 

 

Andi’s in the kitchen, smoking a joint in her underwear, listening to Janelle Monae and making… something. On closer inspection, Connor realizes it’s banana bread. She grins when she sees them and before either of them can do anything, she’s got Evan in a tight hug. 

 

“Happy Birthday!” she says with a smile. “Connor told me. How old are you?”

 

“Twenty-seven,” says Evan, clearly a little bit freaked out to be trapped in a hug with a half-naked lesbian. 

 

Andi grins. “Oh hey! Welcome to the-”

 

“Don’t even think about it,” Connor interrupts firmly. “There will be no more talk of the 27 Club in this house.”

 

Andi lets Evan go, but not before kissing him on each cheek. She offers him the joint, but Evan shakes his head, so then she offers it to Connor, who thinks about but ultimately declines as well. 

 

“We’ve got Thai coming,” Connor announces. “We’ll be in my room, but it shouldn’t be too long, so I’ll come out and grab it.”

 

“Sounds good,” says Andi, and she turns up the Janelle Monae album she’s listening to, puts her banana bread in the oven and starts to dance. 

 

Connor grabs some glasses from the cabinet then ushers Evan into his room before his friend’s face can explode from sheer embarrassment. When he closes the door, he gives Evan an apologetic look. “Sorry about her,” he says. 

 

“Does she get high in her underwear while baking often?” Evan asks. 

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, and he opens his mouth to make a joke when he notices Evan glaring at him. “What?”

 

“Don’t you dare make a joke about baking and being baked.”

 

Connor cracks up laughing. “Oh my god.” 

 

With that, he puts the glasses on his bedside table and pours them each a glass of rum. He hands one to Evan, then takes a sip of his, and considers. “Should we have bought a mixer or something?” 

 

Evan shrugs. “I’m fine with straight rum,” he says. Then he smiles, and opens his mouth, and Connor gets there first. 

 

“Don’t you dare make a joke about the rum being the only straight thing about you.”

 

It’s Evan’s turn to crack up laughing, and then they’re both giggling like maniacs. When they finally recover, there’s a knock on the door and Andi opens it and hands them an UberEats bag. 

 

Connor stares at his roommate for a moment. “Did you answer the door like that?”

 

Andi nods. 

 

“Okay. Uh, thank you.”

 

The door closes, and the sounds of Dirty Computer get louder, and Connor hands Evan his food and some chopsticks and they sit on the edge of Connor’s bed, eating Thai food in companionable silence for a moment. 

 

“Sorry it wasn’t a more exciting birthday,” Connor says apologetically after a moment. “Sitting and watching me work can’t have been super interesting.”

 

“Are you kidding?” says Evan, something that looks like amusement on his face. “I got the chance to sit and read all day. I haven’t done that in literal years, it was… awesome.” He sighs, then picks up some noodles. “I wish I had more time for reading.”

 

“There’s always time for reading,” Connor says with a nod. “At least, there always is for me.”

 

When they finish their food, they have a couple more glasses of rum each and Evan gets it in his head he wants to check out Connor’s bookshelf. Connor feels a mild stab of alarm. “Careful,” he warns him. “It fell on me on one of the loops.”

 

Evan takes a cautious step back, squinting to see the book collection from afar. “You have good taste,” he says. 

 

“Thank you.” Connor downs what must be his fourth glass of rum, then pours some more. “Funny story - at one point when shit got super weird with the whole dying thing, all my books got replaced with copies of The Bell Jar.”

 

Evan actually visibly shudders at that. “Fucking hell.”

 

“I know, right?”

 

Evan comes back over to where Connor’s sitting and picks up the rum bottle and fills up his glass. He downs a glass in one go, then pours another, then does the same thing. 

 

“Whoa,” says Connor, trying not to be judgmental but still a little concerned. “You don’t… what’s…”

 

“If we’re going to die,” Evan says matter-of-factly, “I’d rather be drunk for it. Remember the time we died drunk? Way less painful, right?”

 

Connor looks at him, then nods. “Fair enough.” With that, he drinks two more glasses of rum so he’s caught up with Evan, then fills both of their glasses. They clink the glasses together, then have another drink. 

 

“I don’t think we are going to die this time,” says Connor, with more confidence than he feels. He’s definitely starting to feel pleasantly fuzzy, and he’s actually having a really good time, just hanging out and drinking with Evan. It’s nice. “I mean, I’d super rather not.”

 

“Hard same,” says Evan, nodding enthusiastically. “But, you know… what if it’s, like, a whole thing where somehow we cheated death and we, like, owe him or something?”

 

Connor blinks, trying to make sense of that. “If we cheated Death, then Death is like… really good at it, or something?” he says, a little unsure. “Like, we did actually die. I feel like I really need to point out that we did actually die.”

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, frowning like it’s a painful thought, and Connor doesn’t like seeing that so he puts his hand on his shoulder and squeezes it like he’s trying to be comforting. 

 

“It’s okay,” he assures Evan. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

 

“Really?” says Evan, looking like he doesn’t believe him.

 

“Yeah,” says Connor enthusiastically. “It’s your birthday, you should have… whatever you want. And you definitely shouldn’t have to worry about dying, that’s… that’s not very festive.”

 

“It is not festive at all,” Evan agrees, having another sip of his rum. 

 

“I’m glad we got to hang out,” says Connor, putting his hand on Evan’s thigh, and wondering maybe if that’s a bit weird, but the rum is telling him that it’s okay, and he and Evan are friends and Evan’s wearing a pair of jeans that look really, really good on him and he’s in this soft looking sweater and Connor kind of wants to touch it so he moves his hand from Evan’s thigh onto his shoulder and kind of strokes the sweater for a bit. “I’m glad we’re friends.”

 

“I’m glad, too,” says Evan, and he’s looking at Connor with this expression that Connor thinks he might remember from a night that never happened and then Evan finishes his entire glass of rum and puts it down on the ground and Connor nearly falls over because his hand is on Evan’s shoulder but manages to kind of catch his balance enough not to fall on the floor but ends up lying back on the bed and puts his empty glass on the bedside table and then he’s not quite sure when it happened but Evan is on top of him. 

 

“Hi,” says Connor, realizing that Evan’s straddling his waist, kind of, and he sits up and Evan kisses him and he kisses him back and Evan’s sweater is really, really soft and very nice but this whole thing would be much better if Evan wasn’t wearing a sweater at all. 

 

It seems like Evan is having a similar thought, because he pulls off Connor’s sweater and shirt at the same time and Connor thinks it’s unfair that he’s the only one shirtless and makes sure to tell Evan this, and Evan leans in and bites at Connor’s lip then tells him that if he wants Evan shirtless, he’s going to have to take off Evan’s clothes himself. 

 

And that suddenly seems like the best idea that anyone’s ever had, like the best thing since peanut butter sandwiches were invented, or possibly even better than peanut butter sandwiches, so Connor takes off Evan’s shirt and tries to take off Evan’s jeans but Evan’s kind of weirdly kicking off his shoes so it takes a little while but eventually Connor’s got Evan naked and a part of him is saying that it’s insane that this is happening again but another part is reminding him that it’s Evan’s birthday and Evan deserves to have whatever he wants and they’re not dead, they’re not dead, they’re both gloriously alive. 

 

Connor kisses Evan’s neck and reaches down to stroke him and Evan has a very, very nice dick and it’s Evan’s birthday and he deserves to feel good and Connor’s about kneel down to suck him off when Evan’s hands are in his hair and Connor’s being pushed against the mattress and Evan’s taking off his pants and okay, this is how this is going, sounds like an excellent idea, it’s Evan’s birthday and he deserves to have whatever he wants and if this is what he wants then Connor’s not complaining. 

 

“I want to fuck you,” Evan says, right by Connor’s ear, and Connor manages to murmur some kind of agreement and then Evan’s fumbling around in Connor’s dresser grabbing condoms and lube and Connor takes a moment to try to figure out how they got here and remembers how the last time they had sex it hadn’t exactly ended well but that’s because they were stressed out and dying and it honestly hadn’t been the sex’s fault because that had been amazing and then Evan’s pulling him in for another kiss and asking “is this okay?” and Connor’s immediate answer has to be yes, because this is more than okay, because kissing Evan is actually really fucking excellent, Evan’s a really good kisser, and he’s absolutely gorgeous like this, looking at Connor with his tousled hair and dark eyes and really, really nice arms, somehow? Evan has really nice arms and really nice hands and…

 

Evan tangles a hand in Connor’s hair and pulls and all coherent thought flies out the window. He’s kissing Connor’s neck and fingering him and every now and then he’s whispering something filthy in Connor’s ear or asking him how he feels and Connor feels like he’s not giving any kind of coherent answer but Evan seems to understand and when he finally,  _ finally _ fucks him, Connor’s definitely not saying much of anything except Evan’s name and the occasional “fucking hell” and he hopes that Evan’s having as good a time as he is right now because it’s Evan’s fucking birthday but as far as Connor can see, he’s the one who’s really benefiting from this. 

 

Then Evan’s kissing Connor’s neck and moaning and gasping Connor’s name as he comes and it’s so fucking hot that he’s not far behind, and they’re both breathless and panting as they separate, and it takes a while for Connor to get his bearings, he’s just so fucking overwhelmed. He lies back on his bed and he’s sweaty and sticky and enjoying the feeling of being well and truly fucked, and Evan’s panting next to him and as his heart rate finally evens out, it takes him a moment to realize he’s drifting off. 

 

He wakes up to muffled swearing and sits up and turns on the lamp, and there’s Evan, stumbling around in the dark trying to find his clothes, and Connor checks his phone to see that it’s about three in the morning, so they must have slept for a little while. Evan looks at him, and he looks a little terrified, and Connor just kind of laughs awkwardly. 

 

“So it’s three am,” Connor says, and his voice comes out kind of rough and scratchy. “Which means you survived your birthday, so… congratulations?”

 

“Thanks,” says Evan, and Connor gets up and manages to find Evan’s boxers and hands them to him, and he mumbles another thank you, and Connor manages to find his own boxers and throw them on, and he should probably go to the bathroom and clean up, but he gets the distinct impression that Evan’s freaking out. 

 

“Did you…” Connor’s not sure what he’s trying to say. “Did you want to… should we, like, talk about this?”

 

Evan’s eyes widen and he looks even more freaked out than before. “I basically jumped you,” he says, his tone apologetic. “Uh, sorry about that.”

 

“I didn’t mind,” Connor says honestly. “You’re-”

 

“I’m kind of a fucking disaster?” Evan says, before Connor can finish his sentence. “So, like, I don’t think I can do… it can’t be a…”

 

“I was going to say you’re really fucking good in bed,” Connor says when it becomes obvious that Evan’s a little lost for words. “And I don’t think you’re a disaster.”

 

“Thanks,” says Evan, still looking more than a little freaked. “I just…”

 

“Consider it a birthday present,” says Connor, after a moment’s consideration. “I mean, we fucked on my birthday, too. It doesn’t have to… it can just be that, you know?”

 

“Okay,” says Evan, and he’s nodding like he’s super fucking relieved, and it occurs to Connor that they’re both still drunk. “I, uh, I’ll call a Lyft. Or something.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I need my pants, though.”

 

Connor nods, and fumbles around on his floor until he finds Evan’s jeans and hands them to him, and then puts Evan’s shirt and sweater on the bed, along with his shoes. It takes a bit longer to find Evan’s socks and he’s aware that he must look like an absolute idiot, fumbling around his room for discarded clothing items in just his boxers. 

 

“Do you, uh, wanna use the bathroom?” Connor offers. 

 

Evan nods. “Yeah, uh, yeah. Do you have a…”

 

“Bathrobe’s on the hook by the door,” Connor says, and Evan gratefully throws it on and then heads out to the bathroom. Connor looks around the room, trying to locate his own clothing, then puts it in the laundry hamper. He finds a pair of pajama pants and a long sleeved t-shirt he usually sleeps in during the winter and throws them on, then realizes there are empty Thai food containers on the ground, which is kind of gross, so he puts them in the bin, and sees that Evan has neatly disposed of the condom in the bin, which doesn’t surprise him somehow. 

 

By the time Evan’s back, Connor’s room is a little tidier and he’s in his pajamas and it’s all still really weird, but at least they’re not screaming at each other this time. 

 

“I had a really good birthday,” Evan says, like it’s kind of burst out of him unexpectedly, and Connor can’t help but smile. 

 

“Good,” he says. “I’m glad.” He clears his throat. “You, uh… are you sure you’re okay to get home? You could… I mean, you could stay if you wanted to, it’s late.”

 

Evan’s shaking his head before Connor even finishes the sentence. “I’d better get home,” he says. “It’s, uh… thank you for breakfast and the books and the rum and… and the sex, that was fun.”

 

“It was,” Connor says with a nod. “You’re, uh, you’re good at it.”

 

“You are, too.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“Okay,” says Evan decisively. “I’m going to go now.”

 

“Be safe,” says Connor, and Evan smiles a little awkwardly, and he walks him out of the apartment and sees him down the murder stairs, and then because he’s an idiot, he yells down the stairs for Evan to text when he gets home safely. 

 

Connor heads back into the apartment, then has a quick shower, tying up his hair so he doesn’t get it wet, washing off the sweat and stickiness, and kind of laughs to himself a little. 

 

He’s clearly still a little drunk, because he’s not a hundred percent sure that actually happened. He could just imagine the look on his seventeen-year-old self’s face if he knew that his future involved getting drunk and having sex with Evan Hansen not just once, but twice. 

 

There’s a text from Evan saying that he’s home safe when Connor gets back to his bedroom, which he’s glad to see. He curls up in his bed that still smells like sex and Evan and is asleep almost immediately. 

 

Connor sleeps in until after midday on Sunday. When he wakes up, he checks his phone to see there are texts from Evan. 

 

**I had a really great birthday**

**Thanks for everything**

**Sorry again for drunkenly jumping you**

 

Connor grins a little to himself. 

 

**Check it out**

**We both made it**

**Be careful on the stairs, though**

**Just in case**

 

**LOL**

**I’ll be careful in the shower**

**And around any sidewalk cellars or manholes**

 

Connor bites his lip and tries to formulate a text that’s not going to freak Evan out. 

 

**Speaking of manholes**

**No apologies needed, dude**

**It was fun**

 

It takes a while for Evan to respond, and when he does, he seems to have decided to change the subject. 

 

**I started one of the books I bought yesterday**

 

**Oh yeah?**

**Tell me about it**

 

Connor sees the three dots indicating that Evan’s typing and takes his phone into the kitchen so he can keep chatting with his friend while making a cup of coffee. Evan sends a pile of increasingly enthusiastic messages about his book and Connor cuts himself a slice of banana bread. 

 

Look at them, all civil and friend-like after getting drunk and having sex again. 

 

Connor’s just really glad he hasn’t completely fucked this up yet. 

 

* * *

Apparently, Connor was Evan’s friend now. Properly. Despite the weird drunken birthday sex and the fact that Evan was an absolute basket case, Connor was his friend. He texted Evan every day. Every day. Even when Evan looked like a normal, functioning adult with a girlfriend, he never heard from her every day. And he lived with her. It was weird. But Evan thought maybe he liked it? Evan and Connor talked often, hung out often, and something inside of Evan just felt less broken with each time he saw this person who always looked genuinely glad to see him. 

Part of Evan still didn’t completely buy into the idea that Connor wasn’t just pitying him because he was a loser who had spent the end of February trying to die so hard that he couldn’t stop dying. He kept trying to swallow down the fear that Connor actually didn’t want to spend time with him, that Connor just felt guilty or weirdly responsible for him after the whole death loop debacle, and it was pretty hard to convince himself a lot of the time. 

But then Connor would text him something, like, teasing Evan about how he never had time to read or asking if he wanted to get a drink later, and the fear would ease up a little. 

They slipped into a sort of easy comradery, something Evan really didn’t expect or know what to do with most days but liked, a lot. Connor had transitioned to full time at the bookstore and Evan often worked overtime because he desperately needed the extra money, which meant that he and Connor spent a lot of evenings together, usually eating cheap take out or drinking or both. 

Also Connor went out of his way to spend time with Evan on his birthday which was really very kind of him… Evan had spent his last two birthdays alone, so it was nice to have some company and have the day acknowledged by someone who wasn’t his mom. 

It was nice. 

It was different too. But a nice sort of different. 

Even with the Thai food and the drunk sex. Connor was beyond cool with that, and Evan could not put into words how grateful he was because if Connor were literally any other person, Evan would never show his face again for the rest of his life. 

But Connor was Connor and the fact that they’d now slept together (twice, if you counted nights you didn’t live through) didn’t especially seem to phase him. He still texted Evan daily. He still wanted to get together for drinks or food. He didn’t seem embarrassed by Evan, which was another brand new experience because Evan was always embarrassed by Evan. He’d get caught up in the slightest social faux pas and send months agonizing over it. 

Connor just didn’t give a fuck about what people thought of him. And Evan really admired that about him. He wished some of that not-giving-a-fuckness would rub off on him. And maybe it was. Evan felt a bit… lighter when he spent time with Connor. Evan might still be the guy who went home and worried for ages about having coughed in an elevator and, in his mind, ruined the days of everyone else on board, but he did have someone around who would tell him that nobody cared. 

Less than a week after Evan’s birthday, Connor insisted on a Tuesday that they had to go to this little hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint because (according to his text) “ _ Andi made a smoothie and woke me at four o’clock this morning and I’ve been craving a margarita ever since _ .” 

So Evan met up with Connor once they were both off of work at the Mexican place and (having already memorized the menu on his lunch break) ordered some tacos. He and Connor agreed to split a pitcher of margaritas, and Connor looked a little more enthusiastic than usual about having a drink. 

“Tough day?” Evan asked. 

“Garrett is just. Such a pain in the ass now that I’m a manager.”

Evan nodded. “He seems… difficult.”

“He’s an idiot. Maybe I’ll fire him.”

“Can you do that now?” Evan asked, genuinely curious. 

“I dunno,” Connor said, shrugging and taking a sip of his drink. “I’ll ask Gladys.”

They drifted into an easy conversation, Evan telling Connor about some minor office drama at his paralegal job that was causing a big rift between the paralegals and the accountants: Ice cube trays. Apparently, someone wasn’t refilling them. The accountants swore it was the paralegals, and the other paralegals all swore the accountants were just lazy. There were several emails, and to make matters worse, several emails where Deb in accounting had accidentally Replied All to the entire company. 

“Wow. Office life sounds intense,” Connor said, smirking. 

“This is nothing,” Evan said. “My floor lost the privilege of having a coffee pot after it caused too much infighting.”

“Seriously.”

“Seriously. I have to walk down a floor if I want coffee now,” Evan said, almost smiling. “The short version is that there’s an honor system in place. If you want coffee, you put like fifty cents into a mason jar. When the coffee runs out, the office admin would use the change to go buy a new can. Sounds easy enough, right?”

“Let me guess: Some asshole was stealing coffee.”

“Some asshole? Every asshole. But me and maybe Dottie, who is way too Catholic to deal with the guilt of not paying.” Evan took a sip of his margarita. “So eventually the coffee runs out, and clearly nobody but Dottie and I have been paying for it, so there’s not nearly enough money in the jar to pay for a new container. So like… Linda blames Karen who turns around and blames it on Sean and the whole thing gets totally out of control. Like completely. Linda and Karen are each other’s throats so much that HR gets involved. Sean? He quit. He just like. Left the company. Over coffee drama.”

“What the fuck.”

“I know,” Evan said laughing but then he realized that, wow, he had been talking for a while, and fuck, that was probably really annoying, so he just shut up and drank his margarita. 

“So they took away the coffee pot?” Connor prompted. 

“Yep. I guess we couldn’t be trusted,” Evan said, shrugging. His face felt hot and he cleared his throat. “Sorry, uh. For like. Talking so much? I know that’s probably really annoying-”

“Dude, you’re not talking too much.”

“But I-”

“Evan, it’s fine.” He gave him a bit toothy grin, and Evan relaxed ever so slightly. 

Evan did his best to match Connor’s smile, did his best to just take a breath but then he went to say something else, gesturing with his hand,  and in doing so, his elbow knocked his silverware to the floor where it all landed with a loud clatter. 

And Evan felt it as everyone went quiet, their eyes all finding him as the source of the noise, and Evan was frozen because he had ruined this, he had fucked up, he shouldn’t have been talking let alone talking with his hands and -

Connor leaned down and picked up the silverware from the floor. “Good think you got tacos, right?” He said, like it was no big deal and Evan nodded nodded nodded, because, well, it was kind of a big deal but then everyone else in the room went back to eating and drinking and Connor smiled encouragingly at Evan. 

No big deal, he figured. 

“So how’s uh… How’s the whole therapy thing going?” Connor asked, having decided that they definitely needed a second pitcher. 

“It’s… going.”

Connor was really on Evan to keep at it with therapy and the meds he was on now, which honestly was a good chunk of why he hadn’t just stopped going entirely. Evan hated therapy. He hated it. His shrink Marcia was nice enough, he supposed, but she was always asking him to consider other ways of thinking or suggesting that maybe he was wrong about things and it was just a very uncomfortable time he had to deal with once a week. 

And the meds sucked. Evan kept getting headaches and he had a hard time sleeping and if anything, he felt more jumpy and more anxious in the time since he started to take them. 

Connor kept saying that it took time for meds to work, that sometimes therapy felt worse before it felt better, so Evan kept at it. He showed up when he didn’t want to, swallowed pills that weren’t helping, just because he trusted that Connor wouldn’t lie to him. Because Connor was his friend and Evan trusted him to be honest. 

Evan trusted Connor more than he had ever trusted anyone. 

But that said, he didn’t tell Connor about how he struggled to sleep at night and when he did, he had nightmares about falling, dying, about Connor coughing up blood and falling and dying. So instead he said he was “just tired” a lot. And pushed through.    

“Still not feeling comfortable?”   


Evan shrugged. “I just sort of feel like my therapist thinks I’m annoying?”

“She probably doesn’t,” Connor said. 

“Just like… she probably thinks I’m blowing my problems out of proportion or  whatever. And she never lets me just be fine, you know?”                                                                                                                                                                                           

“Well… are you fine?” 

Evan shrugged. “I’d like to be.”

“I think it’ll get better,” Connor said. “You’re still in the get-to-know-you phase, you know? It’s always a bit awkward at first. I know it super was for me the first few months that I went. Plus my mom was forcing me to go by threatening not to let me go to school here in New York if I didn’t. I hated it at first, but it got better. And then it’ll just be, like, a routine thing. Take a vitamin, take your meds. Go to the grocery store, go to therapy, do laundry. It takes time, but it’s gonna get better.”

“Okay,” Evan said, and for whatever reason, he felt inclined to believe Connor. 

Connor had a habit of walking Evan home. Evan supposed he couldn’t exactly begrudge that choice considering that the first time he walked Evan home, Evan had tried to throw himself off the roof of his building. 

So Connor tended to walk him home if they went out. If Evan went to Connor’s he wouldn’t, but if they met up somewhere and it was late, Connor would usually walk Evan home. Evan gave him crap for it, teasing Connor about how he was “such a gentleman” and asking if Connor planned to give Evan his pin or whatever other fucking archaic-ass  _ Grease  _ reference he could think of. Connor fought back, saying he was more of a Kenickie than a Danny or whatever, and Evan was laughing at his joke when he spotted Mr. Abrahamson making his way slowly up the walk. 

“Oh hang on, this is my neighbor,” Evan said. “Hi Mr. Abrahamson, did you need some help with the door?”

“I’m starting to think you wait out here for me,” Mr. Abrahamson joked, smiling at Evan. Then he spotted Connor and his eyes lit up. “Is this fellow yours?

Evan tried to smile politely. “This is my friend Connor. Connor, this is my neighbor Mr. Abrahamson.”

“I tell him all the time that he can call me Arthur,” Mr. Abrahamson said, shaking Connor’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you Connor.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” Connor said. He glanced over at Evan. “I should probably head out.”

“Okay,” Evan said, feeling a slight twinge of disappointment. “Let me know when you get home?”

“I will!”

“Be safe!” Evan called after him. He could feel Mr. Abrahamson’s eyes on him. “What?”

“He’s pretty,” Mr. Abrahamson said, smiling at Evan. “Shame that he’s not Jewish.”

“How could you tell?” Evan asked and he rolled his eyes.

“I can always tell.”

“Okay,  _ zaide, _ ” He said with a laugh. 

Mr. Abrahamson smiled brightly. “I suppose he could always convert…”

“We’re just friends,” Evan said, shaking his head slightly. 

“Ah, well,” Mr. Abrahamson said. “He could always  _ convert _ .”

“Good night Mr. Abrahamson!” Evan called as he headed up the stairs. 

 

* * *

Connor wakes up in the middle of the night to his heart pounding and a scream at the back of his throat. 

 

He’s still for a long moment, trying to figure out if he was actually fucking yelling or if he’d just kind of thought it. But there’s no knock on his door from Andi, so he must not have made any noise, which is good. 

 

He turns on his bedside lamp, then heads to the kitchen with the intention of making himself a cup of tea. He’s got a bit of a routine now, a routine to deal with having stupid fucking nightmares about dying over and over and over again. The clock on the wall says it’s just after six am, which isn’t ideal but also not the worst thing in the world. He can just be up early.

 

Right. Coffee, then. 

 

Connor puts the kettle on and regrets the decision to stay up late reading a new release thriller that was apparently selling like hotcakes. He’s so not a thriller guy and genuinely thought it was bland and formulaic and a love story was shoved in, probably for movie adaption reasons, and it was all ridiculous and terrible and frighteningly heterosexual. 

 

Gladys hadn’t really wanted to stock it but they’d had some requests, so they discussed it and figured that they’d give it a go, and then Connor offered to read it so if anyone asked questions about it he’d at least know what the hell was going on. 

 

Evan had laughed at him when he mentioned it, saying that he could just read the summary, but Connor had flat out refused, saying that while not all books are good books, he should at least give it a shot. Now he’s overtired and awake early because of stupid nightmares and he finished the book, but it’s a couple of hours of his life he can’t get back and he’s pissed about it. 

 

Once his coffee’s ready, Connor takes it back to his room and grabs a copy of  _ The Amber Spyglass _ off his bookshelf, because he deserves to read something he knows and loves, and lets himself get stuck back into the world for awhile. 

 

And it’s a hell of a lot better than dreaming about bleeding out in a bathtub, getting hit by a bus or falling off a building. 

 

He checks his phone around seven to see there’s a text from Evan. 

 

**Hope you didn’t suffer too much finishing that book**

**I still think you should have read the Wikipedia article**

  
  


Connor replies immediately. 

 

**Reading a Wikipedia article instead of a book is blasphemy**

**Blasphemy, I tell you**

 

A moment later, there’s a reply. 

 

**Why are you up? You don’t start work until 10**

**Everything okay?**

 

Connor debates how he’s going to answer this. He starts composing a message that says he’s been having dreams about dying, but then he thinks that the last thing he wants to do is ruin Evan’s day by starting it off with something so depressing, especially since Evan is really fucking trying with his mental health and even though he’s not super keen on the meds he’s on at the moment, he says he’s starting to feel a little more stable, and Connor’s not about to do anything that might jeopardize that. 

 

**Randomly woke up**

**But I did finish the book**

**My review: oh god why**

 

Evan’s response takes a moment, but Connor can feel how smug he is from the tone of his text. 

 

**I knew it**

**I read three different reviews**

**And they all told me you would definitely hate it**

 

**You were right**

**Congratulations**

**I’ll never doubt you again**

 

**I’m holding you to that**

  
  


Connor smiles, and fires off a text asking about Evan’s day, and they talk for a little longer until Evan says he’s arrived at the office and needs to start work, and by then Connor thinks it’s worth showering and actually starting to get ready for the day. 

 

He’s more than a little exhausted, to be perfectly honest. The day goes by relatively quickly, but he’s tired and feels like everything’s going too fast for him and he’s lagging behind. He’s working a shift with Garrett, who’s been working at the Little Book Nook for just under a year. Connor doesn’t dislike Garrett, exactly, but he’s still a little bit annoyed that apparently Garrett knew that Richard was married the whole fucking time and didn’t say anything when Richard asked him out at the bookstore. Garrett had actually been the one to ask if James knew about him, and Connor had had to ask what the fuck he was talking about, and it had all been an embarrassing mess. 

 

Now that he’s a manager, he’s going to need to be professional and he can definitely do that, but there’s still a part of him that kind of really hates the fact that apparently, Garrett genuinely thought he was the kind of guy who was okay fucking someone he knew was married. 

 

Not that Connor has any leg to stand on there, seeing that he kept fucking Richard after he knew he was married, but he didn’t know when it started, and he didn’t find out until four months later. And when he talked to Richard about it, Richard said he thought Connor knew, that he hadn’t thought it was a secret, that he thought Connor knew what he was getting into, and that frankly it wasn’t fair for Connor to call things off when they clearly had a mutually beneficial relationship going on and it was just sex, and…

 

It’s a piss-poor excuse, and Connor knows it, but he’d been kind of lonely, so he’d just… kept fucking Richard. 

 

For, like, a year. 

 

He’s such a fucking asshole. 

 

He’s got a lunch date with Zoe, and has to get a cab across town so he can get there and back in time, but it’s worth it because he’s genuinely enjoying the fact that he and his sister have a relationship now. 

 

They’re still working on it, obviously, but they make a point to see each other every couple of weeks and it’s new and sometimes awkward but Connor really, really likes it. 

 

It’s just nice. Nice knowing that he’s got this new thing, this thing that he’s always wanted but been too afraid to try to have, and it’s… nice. 

 

Zoe smiles when she sees him and they grab some deli sandwiches and coffee and sit and chat. Connor asks Zoe about how her study’s going and she’s enthusiastic in her response and he thinks to himself that it’s really nice to see her passionate about something, that it really kind of warms his heart, which is a fucking cheesy thing to think but he doesn’t care. 

 

“You look tired,” Zoe says after a while. “How’s the whole managing thing going?”

 

“Good,” Connor says, and he’s not lying, it is good. “I’m just…” He debates whether or not he should say something, and considers that he’s decided not to tell Evan, and his sister isn’t exactly unaware that he’s got a history of being… kind of unstable, so it’s probably safe to talk to her about this, right? “I’ve been having nightmares? Like, a lot of them. So it’s been hard to sleep.”

 

Zoe immediately looks concerned. “You okay?”

 

Connor shrugs. Goes to say he’s fine. Then decides that if he’s going to have a relationship with his sister, he should probably be fucking honest. 

 

Well, not too honest, because there are some things he can’t say without her trying to fucking institutionalize him, but he can say something close to the truth. 

 

“I have a friend,” Connor says, his voice cautious. “And a few months ago he had a rough time of things and his mental health wasn’t great, and… I had to kind of… talk him down.”

 

Zoe’s eyes flash with fear, and Connor immediately hates it. “Is he okay now?”

 

“He’s going to see a therapist,” Connor assures her, “and he’s on an antidepressant, where he wasn’t before, and while things aren’t perfect, he’s… he’s way better, and that’s great and I’m really proud of him, and that’s awesome and I should be… I should be just relieved and happy for him but I keep dreaming about it? I keep dreaming that I… that he…”

 

He doesn’t think he can say it. 

 

He keeps dreaming that it doesn’t work. 

 

He keeps dreaming that Evan jumps. 

 

Zoe’s looking at him, her face pale and a little frightened, and Connor feels terrible. “I didn’t mean to freak you out,” he says in a rush. “I’m just… trying to figure it out, you know?”

 

“That’s…” Zoe stops, and takes a sip of coffee, and visibly braces herself before continuing. “That’s a lot, Connor, that’s… fucking hell. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about your friend.”

 

“He’s fine,” Connor assures her. “I mean, clearly he’s not fine, but he wants to be fine and he’s working hard and that’s… that’s important.”

 

Zoe nods, and then looks like she’s thinking, then continues. “Are you okay?”

 

Connor shrugs. “I mean, it wasn’t great, and I keep dreaming about it, so… I don’t know?”

 

Zoe frowns. “I don’t… I’m not here to tell you how to live your life, Connor, but… your mental health has to come before anyone else’s,” she says firmly. “And I’m proud of you for supporting your friend but maybe… maybe someone who’s recently been actively suicidal isn’t-“

 

“I’m not just gonna stop talking to Evan,” Connor snaps, and then feels bad because he’s just disclosed something super personal about his friend to his sister and Zoe knows Evan, or at least knows who he is, and Evan definitely knows Zoe and will not appreciate her knowing something so personal about him. 

 

Zoe doesn’t look surprised. She just nods. “I figured it was Evan,” she says. “You said something on your birthday.”

 

“Right,” says Connor, feeling more than a little guilty. “You’re a therapist, you get the whole… patient confidentiality thing, right? He would be… he’d be fucking mortified if he knew you knew because he knows you and…”

 

“Of course I won’t say anything,” Zoe says firmly. “As long as you’re sure he’s safe. If you think he’s not safe then I have an ethical obligation to-“

 

“He’s safe,” Connor assures her. “I… he’s safe and I want to keep him safe, he’s… he’s my friend and he’s important to me and I… I get it, you know? And he gets it, too, and there’s… something about being around someone who gets it.”

 

Zoe nods. She’s still frowning but she looks a little less scared. “Nightmares about it aren’t great,” she says, and she’s pretty blunt. 

 

“I know,” says Connor wearily. He’s almost surprised by the next words out of his mouth. “Do you have any recommendations? For a therapist that might… that I might not immediately hate?”

 

Zoe’s eyes widen. After a moment, she nods. “Actually, yeah,” she says, sounding more than a little surprised. “I know this one guy, Praveed. He’s a cool guy. Second generation Indian, he grew up in America. He’s openly gay and he’s… well, I feel like he’d get you, you know?”

 

“Because I’m gay?” Connor asks dryly. 

 

“Because he really fucking loves a metaphor,” Zoe replies, rolling her eyes. “Just like your pretentious English Literature ass.”

 

Connor actually laughs at that. “What the hell,” he says after a moment. “Do you have his contact info? I’ll make an appointment.”

 

“Really?” 

 

“Yeah,” Connor says with a decisive nod, because yeah, he can fucking handle therapy, even if he can’t say everything about the whole time loop shit, and he knows it did help in college, and he really does want to be okay.

 

He works through until closing, and just before 8, Evan shows up. He smiles at Connor when he sees him but the smile drops quickly and Connor’s immediately concerned. 

 

“What’s up?” he asks, before taking a moment to lock the door and turn over the sign so he can sort out the till. 

 

Evan looks a little nervous. “Thought we could get dinner. If that’s okay with you, if you have plans then that’s fine I can go-”

 

“Dinner sounds great,” Connor interrupts, because even though normally it’s rude to interrupt people he does it sometimes with Evan just so Evan doesn’t spiral and get stuck in his head, because sometimes when he starts talking it’s like everything that’s worrying him comes out and usually it’s not something he needs to worry about. So Connor kind of wants to shut that down. It’s not fucking polite, he knows, but Evan seems to appreciate it. 

 

Evan smiles, a real smile, and Connor figures he can get Evan to spit out what’s bothering him once they’ve got some food and possibly alcohol. 

 

They end up at Tipsy McStaggers, who actually do some fucking delicious pub food, and over the course of the evening Evan finally spills.

 

“I get that this is going to sound bad,” Evan says after a couple of drinks, waving a thick cut fry to make his point, “but I am just… fucking over therapy.”

 

Connor, who has a phone number for a therapist named Praveed burning a hole in his pocket, frowns. “Is it… not helping?”

 

Evan hesitates. “No. I mean, yes, it is, I’m just… it’s hard.”

 

Connor raises an eyebrow. “No offence, but… yeah. That’s… you went through some hard stuff, and working through that is… hard. It’s kind of… part of the deal here.”

 

“And that sucks,” Evan says, and he’s frowning and Connor has a sudden urge to, like, smooth out the crinkle between his eyebrows, but that would be weird and Connor is absolutely not going to do that. “It sucks that it’s so hard.”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor with a nod, because Evan’s not wrong. “But… I’ve seen the alternative and it’s really, really fucking bad.” He feels awful having said it immediately when Evan goes pale. He tries to backtrack a little. “I’m not… I meant me,” he says hurriedly. “Like, I  _ know _ that, you know?”

 

“I know,” says Evan immediately, and he looks guilty. “I shouldn’t be complaining. Especially not to you. Not after-”

 

“Hey,” Connor says, trying for a smile. “You can absolutely fucking complain, dude. I’m totally fine with you bitching about it. As long as you don’t, like, stop fucking going to therapy, you can bitch about it all you want.”

 

Evan still looks a little unconvinced. Like Connor’s just trying to be nice. 

 

And, yeah, Connor’s  _ trying _ to be nicer, but he’s not really nice, when it comes down to it, he’s prickly and kind of an asshole sometimes. And he doesn’t tend to sugarcoat things, because he doesn’t usually see the point. 

 

But with Evan, it’s different. 

 

It’s not that Connor’s trying to sugarcoat things - he just doesn’t want to fucking lie to Evan. For someone who lies to himself as much as Evan does, he’s got a surprisingly good nose for bullshit. After everything, there’s no point in Evan lying to Connor and there’s no point in Connor lying to Evan, because they’ve been through something together that no one else would believe. 

 

Connor’s never been afraid to bluntly trot out an uncomfortable truth. To anyone. But with Evan, he feels like he needs to soften the blow, because Evan’s been through enough, and even when he does need the truth, he doesn’t need it like a punch to the face. He needs it like a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

 

Connor doesn’t think he’s particularly good at the gentle nudge approach, but for Evan, he’ll try. 

 

He really, really fucking needs Evan to keep seeing his therapist. 

 

He decides that maybe he should fucking lead by example here. 

 

“I had lunch with my sister today,” Connor says after a moment, “and she recommended a therapist.”

 

Evan frowns. “For me?”

 

Connor shakes his head. “For me,” he says, as nonchalant as he can manage, like it’s no big deal, like seeing a therapist is just a thing that happens - because, yeah, heaps of people see therapists, it shouldn’t be this whole awful thing. “I’m, like… I know I can’t talk about the whole birthday of constant death thing, but I’ve done the whole therapy thing before and got something out of it so figured I’d be proactive or some shit.”

 

Evan looks a little embarrassed, and also kind of… surprised. “That’s… that’s cool,” he says, clearly a little lost for words. Evan focuses back on finishing his fries, like his fries are super interesting, and Connor wants to say something but realizes that he needs to let Evan kind of… process that for a minute or so. 

 

Connor finishes the last of his corned beef and cabbage, which Evan had teased him mercilessly about ordering, and just kind of waits until Evan makes eye contact with him. Once Evan looks up from his food, Connor offers him a smile. “We can complain about our therapists to each other,” Connor offers. “As long as we, like, keep each other accountable or whatever, we can drink and complain and whine about how fucking annoying mental illness is and how hard it is to, like, crawl out of that hole.” He takes a sip of his whiskey and looks at Evan. “Deal?”

 

Evan smiles at him, and Connor’s glad to see the crease between his eyebrows disappear. His eyes are warm and grateful. “Deal.”

 

“Cool,” says Connor, putting his knife and fork in the center of his plate. He nods. “That was some good cabbage,” he says, and is delighted when Evan immediately looks disgusted. 

 

“I can’t fucking believe you ordered that.”

 

Connor grins. “It’s Irish,” he points out. “I’m Irish. Connor Murphy. It’s… pretty fucking Irish.”

 

“No wonder you like this pub so much,” Evan says with a roll of his eyes. “Even though you died here twice.”

 

“Once,” Connor corrects him. “The second time I died I was, like, a block away.” 

 

“How did you actually die that second time?” Evan asks, and he sounds genuinely curious. “You never actually told me.”

 

Connor takes a moment to recall and then grins again. “Maaaaaaaanhole.”

 

Evan throws a fry at him in disgust. Connor cracks up laughing, and after a moment Evan does too, and it makes him look younger and less stressed, and Connor finds himself thinking that he’d probably do anything to make Evan laugh and smile and look less stressed, and that’s a weird thought so he pushes it aside.

 

“Another drink?” Connor says. 

 

Evan smiles. “Sure, yeah.”

 


	3. May (Three Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attached is the official notice from the New York State Board of Law Examiners containing your results from the February bar examination.

**May (Three Months After)**

Evan’s phone lit up close to midnight with a new email notification. He spent the entire day in his cubicle, rewriting briefs and trying hard not to let his thoughts wander into an anxious spiral over the possibility of dying suddenly and horribly while sitting at his desk.

It had been months since he had last died, anyway. Well. Two months and some change. He hadn’t died since the end of February and now it was May.

Funny thing to think.

Not “haha” funny but… strange. Weird.

His new therapist said he relied too heavily on words like “weird’ when trying describe how he felt. That he should get curious about the thoughts, try to get to know them better.

Evan really didn’t want to get to know them better. He wanted them to stop. And he sort of wanted to fire his therapist. Marcia. Her parents clearly watched too much of _The Brady Bunch_ back in the seventies. He found her frustrating… but that was partly because she never let him get away with anything. He’d try to pass off a bad day as “alright” and she’d frown slightly and tell him she wouldn’t think less of him if he wasn’t alright.

He hated that.

He hated having to admit that most days were actually pretty fucking awful, that there seemed to be no escape from the shit in his head. That there was no faking it in front of Marcia just to get by.

Evan really, truly hated that she could see through him so easily. That she could tell when he was lying.

That she knew that on some level, Evan was always lying.

He really fucking hated that.

But it was helping.

Which was even more annoying.

The point was he couldn’t actually tell her about all of those times when he died because Marcia was a human polygraph and she would know he wasn’t _lying_ and that would mean he was delusional and it would be a one way ticket to a 72-hour psych hold and while he was fucking grateful for ObamaCare, his Marketplace plan did not cover psychiatric hospitalizations.

He had checked.

Back when he kept dying.

The anxiety of the day hadn’t subsided by the time that he got home. And it hadn’t gone away after he took his new meds like a good boy or after he washed the meds down with a cigarette he smoked with his window open or two (well maybe it was actually three) drinks.

And now he had an email.

Late night emails rarely meant anything good.

Before he could overthink it anymore, Evan opened the email and then immediately wished he hadn’t. His heart leapt into his throat, his stomach dropped to the floor, and he couldn’t breathe right.

The subject line read: _FEBRUARY NEW YORK BAR EXAM RESULTS_

Evan thought he might throw up.

Or die.

Could he be dying again?

 

_CANDIDATE: EVAN HANSEN_

 

_Attached is the official notice from the New York State Board of Law Examiners containing your results from the February bar examination._

 

_Sincerely,_

 

_New York State Board of Law Examiners_

Evan found himself standing over his sink. The water was running, and his mouth tasted like vomit because he had just thrown up.

He checked his phone.

It wasn’t February.

It wasn’t.

It was May and he hadn’t died today.

Evan tapped out a text to Connor because Connor was genuinely the only person who he could say send the words, _“Hey you didn’t just die, right?”_ to without getting a panicked reply.

_“No, just talking to Andi. What’s up? You okay?”_

_“Got my bar exam results.”_

Evan watched Connor’s text bubble ellipses for a moment. _“And?????”_

He glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked like shit. He had bags under his eyes and he hadn’t shaved that day and earlier he had genuinely started to think he was getting wrinkles around his eyes which was not something he was prepared to handle less than two months after turning 27. _“I can’t open them.”_

It took a few minutes for Connor to actually respond. Evan watched his typing for a while, thinking that Connor was probably trying to find a polite way to tell him to stop being such a fucking baby and open the damn email.

But then the response came through and it said, _“Want to get a drink?”_

Evan wasn’t sure how to explain that he wasn’t exactly up to going to a bar or anything. He was already in his pajamas and he had just thrown up and this was all starting to feel a lot like dying and if he left his apartment, a bus with Alana Beck’s face might kill him.

_“Or I could be there in 15 with a bottle of tequila?”_

Evan felt the weirdest sudden rush of warmth and affection and genuinely, seriously the first thing he thought to text Connor back was “I love you.”

But that was.

A lot.

He didn’t have time to unpack all of…. That.

Just. It was just that he really appreciated that Connor was understanding and a good friend and fuck fuck. He didn’t really casually throw out the word love. Evan didn’t really casually do much of anything. Fuck. Now his face was all red because he was embarrassing himself. He should just take a Valium or something, for fuck’s sake. He just… needed to learn not be so fucking weird.

Evan shook his head. And texted Connor back, _“Tequila. Please.”_

_“Be there in 15.”_

_“Be safe.”_

Evan thought about changing out of his pajamas, but then remembered Connor had quite literally seen him at his lowest low point… and also naked… so ultimately it probably didn’t matter what he was wearing. Instead he focused his nervous energy into tidying up a bit in the living room. Mattie and Alex were on the night shift all week so he was by himself in their apartment, and somehow a scrub top and a pair of Crocs had ended up on the sofa. Evan gathered them up and put them in Mattie’s room (Mattie usually wore purple scrubs, and Alex was usually wearing blue so he sort of knew who they belonged to). Satisfied that the living room didn’t make Evan look like some sort of slobby recluse, he had a seat on the sofa where he stared at the email again.

He should just open it. Just rip the bandaid off, find out if he passed.

If he didn’t pass it might literally kill him. Taking that fucking exam _had_ killed him. Over twenty times. He couldn’t not pass. If he didn’t pass…

He had to pass. He just had to. He sat the exam over five times, he had to have passed on the last go, he had to have passed because not passing meant failing and Evan couldn’t have failed. Because if he failed…

His buzzer went off. Evan leapt to his feet and crossed the room to buzz Connor up. It took him a pretty short time to make it up to Evan’s apartment and he always knocked first even though Evan always just unlocked the door for him to let himself inside.

Connor had on a blue flannel and skinny jeans, and in one hand he had a brown paper bag and in the other a small bag of limes. “I wasn’t sure if you liked training wheels with your tequila.”

“I do.”

“Me too,” Connor said, kicking off his shoes and heading into the kitchen where he found a cutting board Evan didn’t even know they owned and got to work cutting the limes into small wedges. Evan decided he should make himself useful and located the salt shaker, which had been placed on top of the refrigerator for some unfathomable reason. He found some mismatched shot glasses on the kitchen window sill and gave them a quick wash.

The limes cut, shot glasses and salt located, Connor and Evan headed back to the living room. Without needing to be asked, Connor had a seat on the floor by the coffee table and poured them each a shot of tequila. They licked their hands, sprinkling salt on the space above their thumbs. They tapped the shot glasses together, tapped them to the coffee table, and then Evan and Connor swallowed their shots. Evan bit his lime fast, because the first tequila shot never went down easily.

“I think I hate tequila,” He said, pouring them both another shot.

“Or you love tequila, but only after a few tequila shots.”

“Possible.”

They had a second shot. Then a third.

“Why don’t you want to open your results?” Connor asked him because he always cut right through Evan’s bullshit. Like Marcia. The two of them should form a fucking club, the Making Evan Uncomfortable Club or something.

Evan shrugged. He couldn’t explain it… it was just like every time he thought about actually opening the results, he got a stabbing pain in his chest and thought he might puke again.

If he didn’t open the results then he could still exist in limbo… where he might have passed or he might have failed. As much as that limbo sucked, it probably didn’t suck as much as opening the results to see he had failed the bar.

Because, fuck, what if he had failed? On the one hand, considering the circumstances… he wouldn’t be surprised. But then what? Did he retake the fucking bar? Waste another $280 dollars and another six months Not Being A Lawyer? Did he risk going back to that place, the constant cramming and panicking and Adderall and loneliness and crushing sense of it all being for nothing?

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Connor asked, pouring them each another shot.

“I could fail,” He said, not looking at Connor. He licked his hand to shake more salt onto it and grabbed another lime. Salt, tequila, lime. It burned his throat going down. Evan realized he had given Connor the Mickey Mouse shot glass and that made him want to laugh, a little.

“So if you fail, you just… take it again, don’t you?”

Evan gave him a withering glare. “Yeah because that went so well last time.”

Connor frowned. “I mean… It’s not the same situation as it was before, right?”

But wasn’t that different, really. Evan was still a fucking mess. Just now he was paying a too-high copay to have someone take a look at that. Just now he knew precisely how it felt to break your neck.

Though now, at least, he had Connor.

Someone to tell him not to jump off a roof.

Maybe that did matter.

They did another shot, and Evan was starting to feel it a bit. His head felt pleasantly heavy. “I just… I can’t have failed.”

“I mean, don’t like half of people fail?” Connor said. “It’s not like you wouldn’t be in good company. My dad had to take it twice.”

“Really?” Evan didn’t know that.

Connor looked a little sheepish. “He mentioned it last time we talked, whatever. Point is, if you failed… which we don’t know that you did, because you probably passed, it wouldn’t be like the end of the world, you know? Just a setback. You’re a genius. You can handle a setback.”

“Or I can’t,” Evan said, reaching for the tequila bottle only to have Connor snatch it away.

“Do we need to do the thing where I ask what’s going on and give you a long meaningful look? Or are you just going to spit it out?”

Evan sighed. He would have preferred the long meaningful look route, frankly. It would have been easier on his nerves. “I just. You have a lot more confidence in my ability not to fuck this all up than I do.”

“Outside perspective,” Connor said.

Or Connor just didn’t want to deal with Evan, like, actually losing his mind again. That had not been fun. Connor had it worse, Evan thought. Talking someone down was a lot harder than actually being talked down.

He sighed, pulling out his phone and opening the email again.

“You can do this, you know,” Connor said. “All that changes once you open it is that you know.”

“Everything changes once I open it,” Evan snapped. “This fucking… either I’m a lawyer, like officially, or I’m just a loser who wasted over three hundred thousand dollars going to fucking law school.”

“Shit really?” Connor said, his eyes going wide.

“Yeah,” Evan said. “Had to pick NYU. Couldn’t have, like, gone to a state school or something moderately affordable. Fuck.” He handed Connor his phone. “You open it.”

“What? No way.”

“I can’t do it.  Seriously. You do it.”

“I’m not doing that,” Connor said. “Let’s have another drink.”

So they did. Two more, actually. Connor tried to hand Evan’s phone back but he couldn’t, wouldn’t take it. “I can’t open it Connor,” He said, trying to make him understand. “It’s… it’s like. Pandora’s box, like, a whole lot of shit will happen once I open it and I just… I can’t.”

“You can,” Connor said. “And I can’t do it for you. You’ve gotta open it yourself. I can’t take that away from you, because you deserve to be the first you know you did it.”

“Or the first to find out I failed.”

“Evan.”

“Connor.”

Connor laughed quietly. “Dude, I just… You can do this. I can’t do it for you.”

“But why not?” Evan whined, and okay sure, he was aware he was being silly and whiny and pathetic, but he just. He couldn’t do it. If he opened the email, there was no going back. He couldn’t unknow his results.

“Why would they send you life changing information via email anyway?” Connor said. “That definitely deserves priority mail or something. A notarized letter.”

“They do mail it,” Evan said, pouring another shot for them both. “But it can take up to six weeks to get it in the mail because this entire state hates me, specifically.” He sighed.

“Maybe it just hates lawyers?”

Evan shrugged. “I’m a notary,” he said stupidly.

“Oh?”

“I did it when I was an L1 and wanted to pick up some extra money.” Evan rolled his eyes at himself. “Sabrina made so much fun of me.”

“Sabrina sounds like a bitch.” Evan knew that Connor was drunk because he once told Evan he tried to avoid using the word “bitch” because when he was fifteen Zoe had threatened to “rip off” Connor’s balls and “feed them to a very hungry sea lion” on a trip to the west coast and the threat had stuck with him.

He didn’t want Connor calling Sabrina a bitch, because she wasn’t, she really wasn’t, but it was sort of nice to have someone who would take Evan’s side sight-unseen. “She’s actually really nice. I think you’d like her if you met her.”

“Doubt it,” Connor said. He smiled, “Do you have your own notary stamp?”

“I sure do.”

“That’s fucking great. You could totally… just notarize shit.”

“A great back up career if this whole lawyer thing doesn’t work out,” Evan muttered.

“It’ll work out.”

“Mr. Abrahamson told me not to be a lawyer,” Evan muttered as he licked his hand again. It was starting to feel a little unpleasant from all the salt and saliva. “Where were you four years ago, asshole?”

“Who is Mr. Abrahamson?”

“My neighbor. He’s old. And an alcoholic.” He took his shot and try to ignore the judgy, you-look-like-an-alcoholic-yourself-right-now-Hansen eyes Connor was giving him. He knew what he fucking looked like. “He… He’s old. And I’ll grab the door for him, sometimes. Sometimes we talk. He used to be a lawyer, before he got disbarred for showing up to trial drunk. He’s… nice.”

“Should I be jealous?” Connor joked and Evan snorted.

“Shut up.”

“You tell me to shut up a lot for someone who’s too scared to open an email,” Connor said and Evan felt that, like, full on. It landed painfully and hard and Connor looked sheepish immediately. “That. Came out wrong, sorry. I just. I was trying to make a joke and it… We’re not joking about this and. Just. Sorry. Fuck.”

Evan sort of laughed miserably. “You’re right though. This is pathetic. It’s an _email_.”

“An important, life changing email,” Connor said kindly. “You’re allowed to freak out. It’s a legitimately big deal. You’re allowed to be… scared or whatever.”

But he wasn’t, he really wasn’t because he was supposed to be getting over this, he was supposed to be better now. But he just wasn’t and the weight of that email in his inbox was starting to feel like it was pressing on his windpipe. Fuck.

“What if you said all of the things that are scaring you about this?”

“No,” Evan said too fast. “Fuck no. That’s a terrible idea. We’d be here all night.”

Connor smiled a little. “Fair.” He sighed. Poured them each another shot. “What can I do to help? Other than opening it for you.”

Evan felt a bit cheated that Connor hadn’t let him get away with suggesting that he open it again. That was unfair. Jerk.

Fuck.

He just really, really couldn’t do this. This was worse than looking at his scores for finals or at his acceptance letter to NYU… This was worse than taking the damn bar. And he took that fucking thing more than six times.

“Remember… uh when we kept dying?” Evan said awkwardly.

“Vividly,” Connor said drily.

“I mean. Uh. Close to the end there… the last few loops. Did things… did they get sort of, uh. Weird?”

“You mean weirder than when the furniture and people and mirrors all disappeared?”

“Yeah, things got… really fucking weird for me.” He didn’t know why he had brought that up. Just that he hadn’t ever mentioned it to anyone, because it wasn’t like he could tell Marcia “hey one time when I died I think my seventeen year old self pushed me off my roof.” Evan shook his head, thinking he was too drunk, he should stop talking, but now that he had started it was difficult to make the words stop. “Fuck I just… I was taking the bar, again, because, you know… that’s what I _did_. And… Okay, so. When I broke my arm senior year -”

“I know,” Connor said suddenly. His face had gone sort of pale and he was wearing this pained expression that made Evan sort of regret saying anything. Most people just got brunch with their friends. Most people could have a normal fucking conversation. “I… the last time, on the roof,  you said something and I... I know.”

Evan nodded because that helped, it helped, skipping past that part. “I worked as an apprentice park ranger the summer before senior year. At Ellison State Park. And I…” He looked up at Connor, more embarrassed to be admitting this. “I saw myself. I know, that’s like… maybe even more nuts than dying like twenty odd times, but I went to go and take the bar but instead of the exam room it was the park and… I saw myself. At seventeen.”

“Fuck,” Connor said, his face a bit pale, a bit scared. Evan hated that expression. He hated it. “That’s…”

“Yeah.”

“Did you talk? To the other you?”

“A little…” He shrugged. “I… If I failed the bar… Then what was even the point, you know? Like why let me get out of that if it was just… for nothing.”

“I don’t think it was for nothing,” Connor said, sounding… almost hurt. Offended, even. “It wasn’t for nothing.”

“I probably bombed the essay portion the first day,” Evan said, ignoring him. “So even if I got a perfect score on the MBE, I still probably can’t score high enough to pass. It’s… this is stupid.”

“No.” Connor’s hand was on his arm, warm and real and it gave him a flash to a night that he only half remembered because it was like he wasn’t really, properly there, Connor telling him that he was real because Evan could feel Connor’s hand on his arm. “It’s not.”

“What if I failed?” Evan said in this pathetic, small, childish voice. “I… I worked really hard and… I don’t want to go back there again.”

“I know. I don’t want you back there either. You definitely deserve to pass.” Connor’s hand squeezed his arm, warm and supportive. “But you can’t know until you know.”

Evan nodded.

“It’s going to be okay, either way. I’ll be here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Evan nodded nodded nodded nodded.

“Okay.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Can I have my phone?”

Connor gave it back to him.

Evan looked him dead in the eye. “If I totally freak out and need to be like… hospitalized and sedated or whatever, can you like… not tell my mom?”

“Absolutely not,” Connor said. “You’d want your mom to be there. And she would be super pissed if nobody called her.”

“You’re an annoyingly good friend,” Evan said, narrowing his eyes just a little bit.

“I came over to get you drunk at midnight on a Monday.” He looked at his phone. “Tuesday now. I’m not _that_ good.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Please… don’t make fun of me if I do anything embarrassing.”

“Not my style. Unless you shit your pants, then all bets are off.”

He laughed a little. Evan’s hands were shaking and it was hard to actually click on the email. Evan closed his eyes while the email loaded, thinking that maybe he should have like… prayed or something first. Begged for mercy or whatever. Fuck. Fuck he was really doing this, he was really doing this.

 

_The State Board of Law Examiners congratulates you on passing the New York State bar examination held in February. You have been certified to..._

 

Evan took in a sharp breath. Connor grabbed his arm again, but Evan couldn’t look at him yet, because he had to read and reread it but the words weren’t computing that couldn’t be real it wasn’t.

He passed.

That could not be…

He passed?

“Can you just… I want to make sure I’m not imagining this.” Evan gave Connor his phone. Connor took it and looked down at the screen, a line of concentration forming between his brows and then he broke out into this wildly sunny smile that did funny things to Evan’s heart.

“Evan. You passed the bar.”

“I passed the bar,” He said and he was so relieved and so elated and Connor was pulling him into a hug, an almost Andi-level hug, bonecrushingly tight and Evan thought he might honestly just stop existing then and there because nothing was going to top this moment. “I passed the fucking bar.”

“You did!”

“Fuck… I have to, fuck, I have to tell my mom,” Evan said, laughing breathlessly because he had passed he really, honestly, didn’t think he was going to pass. He was so certain that with all of the fuckery he would fail. He picked his phone up and his hands were still sort of shaking to text his mom because he had to tell his mom, he didn’t care if that made him like the weirdest Mama’s Boy in the universe, he had to tell his mom she needed to know. He sent her a text saying, _“Hey mom I know it’s really late but I just found out I passed the bar exam! I love you, and I’ll call you tomorrow!”_

“So, should we shift into celebratory drinking now?” Connor said and Evan laughed at his dumb joke and then…

Well frankly he wasn’t sure what came over him but a few seconds later he was pulling Connor closer and kissing him hard and Connor was kissing him back, mouth open and he tasted like tequila and lime and salt and _fuck_ Connor was a really fantastic kisser.

Like really fantastic. He had a seriously talented tongue and Evan was getting hard just from kissing and…

This was probably a bad idea. They’d fucked twice before and the first time ended it absolute disaster and they’d both been sort of awkward for a bit after Evan’s twenty-seventh birthday had ended up with them in bed together but.

Evan was a fucking attorney now so he figured he was allowed to have sex with someone hot and cool. He was allowed to celebrate.

Right?

“Bedroom?” Connor said in a hoarse voice and Evan nodded fast, and honestly they barely made it there because Connor was genuinely trying to get into Evan’s pants before they even left the living room, his hands were everywhere and Evan was having a hard time concentrating on unbuttoning Connor’s flannel. Connor kicked the door closed, and Evan fumbled to switch the light on while Connor was kissing his neck. “Off,” Connor said tugging at the hem of Evan’s t-shirt so he pulled it off as fast as his clumsy hands could manage.

“You know,” Connor said sort of breathlessly, “I’ve never had sex with a lawyer before.”

“Oh god how drunk are you? Yes you have!”

“Who?” Connor said, laughing, distracted.

“ _Richard’s_ a lawyer.”

Connor shrugged. “He wasn’t that good at sex. Doesn’t count.”

“Still a lawyer.”

“ _Fine_. A notary then.”

“Oh my god, you’ve already had sex with one, I’ve been a notary for like -”

He never got to tell Connor how long he had been a notary because Connor shut him up with a kiss and Evan laughed feeling his face get hot and then Connor was kissing him harder and fucking hell he should like, give lessons in kissing to the masses, he would be a millionaire.

They parted briefly to take the rest of their clothes off and then Evan pulled Connor down onto the the bed with him, kissing his neck, his chest, his hip… only to have Connor pull him up for a kiss, murmuring, “Not letting you do all of the work this time.”

Holy shit that was incredibly hot.

Connor flipped Evan onto his back, kissing his way down his body, and Evan couldn’t catch his breath, he was drowning, and then Connor was taking him into his mouth and Evan couldn’t manage to keep his mouth shut. “Fuck.”

He looked down and caught Connor taking a moment to look at him, a devious look in his eyes, and then he took Evan’s entire length into his mouth, swallowing him down and if Evan were capable of Rational Thought he would have remarked that he was Extremely Impressed that Connor seemed not to have a gag reflex, but he was not currently capable of that so instead he bit his lip to keep from being embarrassingly loud.

Evan knew Connor had a fucking talented mouth but he had seriously underestimated it until this point, hadn’t gotten to experience the full extent of his abilities and Evan dragged his hands through Connor’s hair roughly and Connor hmmed contentedly with Evan’s cock still in his mouth and he had to gasp out a warning that this whole thing was about to be over very quickly and Connor pulled off of Evan smiling wickedly, his mouth red and slick with spit and he made his way north to kiss Evan deeply.

They made out for a while, grabbing roughly at each other and Connor nipped playfully at Evan’s ear and Evan laughed and then Connor laughed and pulled away and looked at Evan hard. “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, nodding, because yeah, he was.

“Good,” Connor said. “Because I want to ride you.”

Evan knew exactly what dying felt like he knew what he was feeling in that moment was not how dying felt, but it was _something_ … More like getting dragged on a roller coaster and getting stuck waiting in line and knowing you would have fun once you were on the ride but the anticipation was absolutely unbearable.

Connor kissed him again and then they pulled apart to handle the practicalities. Connor might have insisted Evan not do all of the work, but he was not about to be totally passive in this experience, so he took his time helping get Connor prepped and adequately lubricated, teasing him and making him gasp and jerk and swear several times. Connor decided that he was ready and, taking a moment to check in with Evan, rolled the condom onto Evan’s hard cock before climbing on top of him and slowly, agonizingly slowly, lowering himself onto Evan’s erection, letting out a groan as he did but never once relinquishing control.

Fuck he was so hot, Evan could hardly stand it. Connor braced himself against Evan’s chest, setting a torturing pace, sinking down hard and Evan couldn’t keep himself quiet, couldn’t avoid gasping and groaning, instead letting himself getting lost in this, in Connor, in the place where their bodies met. His one hand clung to Connor’s hip, for an anchor, something to hold onto, his touching bruising and Connor raked his blunt, short nails across Evan’s chest and really, it took every ounce of self control he had not to finish then and there. He tried to focus on moving to match Connor’s movements, tried to focus on the way Connor kept saying his name like it meant something, the look of intense concentration on his face.

Evan finished first, coming hard and with a strangled cry. Before he had properly caught his breath he was rolling Connor back onto the mattress, not satisfied to be the only one who got off, using his mouth to blow Connor while his fingers slipped inside of him, and Connor gasped, _“Evan,”_ and really Evan was sort of a slut for encouragement so he kept going, and Connor was pulling at his hair and swearing and gripping the sheets and then he finished, eyes pressed close and mouth open.

“Fuck,” Connor said breathlessly as Evan sat up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “That was…”

“Yeah.”

Evan disposed of the used condom and then sort of collapsed on the other side of the mattress, and both he and Connor just stayed still, while their sweat cooled on their skin and their breathing returned to its usual rhythm.

“We’re pretty fucking good at sex,” Connor said, laughing a little.

“Yeah.” They really were. It kept catching Evan by surprise, like one of these times they would fuck and it would be mediocre, and that would really suck because then they’d probably have to talk about the fact that they kept having sex…

Evan didn’t know what to do with that conversation. Too likely to get awkward. Too likely to destroy this whole friendship thing they were doing.

“Can I say something without you getting… upset?”

Connor’s brows knit together. “I mean, no promises, but I can try…”

“Sex with you is basically cardio, which is really good because I know I’m supposed to exercise but I hate jogging. I really fucking _hate_ jogging, Connor.”

Connor was smiling, looking like maybe he might laugh. “Okay?”

“We could. Uh. We could do this again. If we wanted? Like…”

“Have sex?”

“Yeah, I mean.” Evan couldn’t quite meet Connor’s eyes. “I mean. You’re awesome and I really like, you know, hanging out with you and… I definitely don’t want to do this if it might, I dunno, make things weird between us because like, you’re important to me but… You’re also really fucking good at sex and if you wanted, we could do it again?”

“Like… fuck buddies?” Connor clarified.

“Yeah. I mean. Only if you wanted,” Evan said again because he was not interested in that if it was going to fuck things up. He didn’t want to fuck things up.

“Okay,” Connor said, nodding. “We could try it. I mean, like you said… It’s just, like, cardio, right?”

“Exactly,” Evan said, smiling, relieved. “And if it ever feels weird or whatever -”

“Then we’ll just… not do it?” Connor said. “It’s pretty straightforward.”

“I guess. Yeah.”

Connor smiled, leaning his head back so it rested sort of on Evan’s shoulder. Evan stayed still for a bit, but then he started to sort of slowly shift away.

“Too much?” Connor said.

“No, I just…”

“You don’t like to cuddle, got it,” Connor said, like it was all that easy, like it was no big deal. He was smiling, sitting up, looking around for his pants. He pulled them on, then walked over to Evan’s side of the bed. “Nice job on the sex,” He said, raising his arm for a high five and Evan cracked up laughing and high fived him.

“Thanks.”

“I should probably head out,” He said, pulling on his flannel and doing up the buttons. “It’s…” He looked over at the clock. “Damn, it’s almost four.”

“Shit,” Evan said, turning to see the clock and flinching. “I have work in the morning.”

“So use a sick day,” Connor said. “You just passed the fucking bar. You’re allowed to call in this once.”

Evan smiled.

“Congrats,” Connor said. “Not sure I actually said that.”

“I think the sex definitely got the message across.”

Connor rolled his eyes. Evan smiled at him, throwing his pajama pants on and walking Connor to the living room where he collected his shoes and told Evan to keep the remaining quarter bottle of tequila. “I’m still taking you to dinner to celebrate though,” He said when he got to the door. “Don’t try to get out of it.”

“Okay,” Evan said.

“I’m proud of you, man,” Connor said, clapping Evan on the shoulder in a way that made it seem like they definitely didn’t just fuck like thirty minutes before. “You did it.”

“Thanks.”

“Get some sleep.”

“Okay,” Evan said. “Be safe.”

Evan closed the door and locked it behind Connor. He slowly walked back to his bedroom, rattled off a text to boss saying he wasn’t going to make it into work that day, and once Connor had texted to say he had made it back to his place (and survived the Murder Stairs), he passed out in his bed that smelled like tequila and sex and Connor.

* * *

 

 

There’s a part of Connor that thinks he definitely hallucinated the conversation he and Evan had right after having sex when Evan passed the bar exam. Genuinely just… hallucinated it.

 

He checks in with Evan every day like usual and they talk about books and what they’ve been up to. Evan’s jumped straight into finding a proper lawyer job, which is fair enough because he’s a proper lawyer now and should be doing proper lawyer things and earning proper lawyer money.

 

They have a drink on Friday night at a bar near Connor’s apartment, and it takes Connor a while but he eventually manages to drag out of Evan that there are a decent number of firms who’d pretty much said “call us when you pass the bar” so, from Connor’s perspective, Evan’s in a pretty good position right now.

 

“I’m weighing my options,” Evan says, and he’s bright pink as he drinks his second rum and coke of the evening.

 

“Do you have a pro con list?” Connor teases. “You seem like the kind of guy who’d be super into a pro con list.”

 

Evan fixes him with a slightly frustrated glare, then finishes his drink. “I’m making sure I have all the information before I make a decision,” he says. Then he stands up. “Whisky?”

 

“Sure,” says Connor, and he’s about to try to give Evan some money when Evan’s already at the bar, ordering more drinks, so he idly pulls out his phone to pass the time.

 

There’s a message from Zoe.

 

**You up for a drink? I’m bored.**

 

Connor’s a little taken aback, to be perfectly honest. He and Zoe have been doing regular lunch dates since his birthday, and they tend to talk most days, but this is the first time Zoe’s just texted him out of the blue in the evening. It’s… a little weird, but not in a bad way, and Connor’s kind of… well, he’s not about to cancel on Evan, but hearing that Zoe wants to spend time with him makes him feel… good.

 

**Out for drinks with Evan**

 

Connor feels like he should explain that he’s not just blowing her off, so follows it up.

 

**He passed the bar exam, so we’re celebrating**

 

The response comes almost immediately

 

**Congratulations Evan!**

**Mind if I crash?**

 

Evan chooses that moment to come back with drinks. He sees Connor looking at his phone and raises an eyebrow. “Grindr match?” he teases.

 

“Not even a little,” Connor says with a roll of his eyes. “It’s, uh, Zoe.”

 

Evan’s expression is fond. “I’m really glad you guys are talking,” he says, smiling a little. “How is she?”

 

“Bored,” Connor admits, putting down his phone. “She, uh, she wanted to know if she could crash drinks.”

 

Evan’s eyes widen. “Uh…”

 

“If you’re uncomfortable, it’s fine,” Connor says hurriedly. “She’s just… well, she’s never texted me in the evening for a drink before? It’s always been lunch or coffee and… well…”

 

“Things are improving a lot between you guys,” Evan says, nodding. “That’s really great.”

 

“I’ll see if she wants to get brunch tomorrow,” Connor says, and reaches for his phone again.

 

“She can come if she wants to,” Evan says quickly. Connor looks at him, and Evan starts going very pink.

 

There is something weird and hollow in Connor’s stomach. “You don’t still have a weird crush on my sister, do you?”

 

Evan actually almost laughs at that. “No. Not that she’s not great, she’s just… she’s a little intimidating now,” he confesses. “She’s, like, a proper grown up, you know?”

 

“Evan,” says Connor, as deadpan as he can. “You just passed the bar. You’re a fucking lawyer.”

 

Evan rolls his eyes. “It’s… that doesn’t count.”

 

“Pretty sure they don’t let non-grown ups be lawyers.”

 

“You’ve clearly never spent much time with lawyers.”

 

Connor laughs, because Evan’s right. He genuinely knows two other lawyers aside from Evan - his dad, who is an asshole, and Richard, who is also an asshole.

 

Evan has a sip of his drink, then kind of nods like he’s made a decision. “You should tell Zoe to join us,” he says, his voice determined. “You should get to hang out with your sister and not just me.”

 

Connor looks at him, really looks at him, to make sure he’s sure, but Evan looks… like he actually means it. He fires off a quick text to Zoe about where they are and she shoots one back, asking him to order her a margarita.

 

“I don’t mind hanging out with just you,” Connor says once he’s put his phone back in his pocket. “Don’t… don’t think I don’t like hanging out with you, because it’s definitely up there in my top ten favorite things to do, you know?”

 

Evan looks taken aback for a moment, and then his face bursts into this huge grin and Connor feels warm all over. “I like hanging out with you, too,” says Evan, still with that smile.

 

And. Well.

 

That’s nice to hear.

 

There are plenty of people who’d rather saw off their own foot than hang out with Connor, after all.

 

And Evan is, like, the best person, so Connor’s pretty fucking happy to hear that he likes hanging out with Connor as much as Connor likes hanging out with him.

 

He finishes his whisky, then gestures to the bar. “What can I get you?” he asks Evan. “Another rum and coke? Or are you going to insist on vodka and soda again?”

 

Evan rolls his eyes. “If you’re going to keep being a bitch about vodka, I’ll have a rum and coke.”

 

Connor grins, because he likes it when Evan is snarky, and heads to the bar to get a rum and coke, a whisky and the margarita for Zoe.

 

He somehow manages to carry all three drinks over, and when he gets back to the table, Zoe’s there, taking off her coat and sitting on the opposite side of the booth from Evan. Connor puts the drinks down, then slides in next to Evan and hands out the drinks.

 

“Thanks,” Zoe says with a smile. “I was just congratulating Evan on his big news.”

 

Evan’s blushing, and Connor’s first thought is that he looks cute when he blushes, which he’s just going to acknowledge for a moment because, yes, he knows Evan’s cute, they’ve had sex three times, and they’re friends, so there’s no wrestling to be had with that. He also looks pleased to see Zoe.

 

“Thank you,” Evan says. “I still don’t really believe it, you know?”

 

“I knew you could do it,” says Connor with a grin, and kind of nudges Evan with his shoulder. “Never doubted you.”

 

Evan turns to him and gives him that megawatt smile and Connor smiles back.

 

“This is a weak-ass margarita,” says Zoe, downing her drink in one go. “I guess that means it’s my round next, huh?”

 

“Easy tiger,” says Connor with a laugh. “You just got here.”

 

Zoe sighs. “Sorry. Bad day.” She stops and shakes her head. “No, not bad, just… frustrating. Sometimes it’s hard to get through, you know?”

 

Connor and Evan exchange a look, which Connor thinks has less to do with any sympathy for Zoe and more to do with the fact that they both have therapists who are probably frustrated with them a decent percentage of the time.

 

“What are you drinking?” Zoe asks.

 

“Vodka soda,” Evan says firmly, and Connor rolls his eyes. “And Connor will have the cheapest whisky you can buy.”

 

“Fuck you,” says Connor immediately, and Evan grins again. Zoe looks between them, grins and stands up.

 

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” she announces, and stands up, leaving Evan and Connor sitting weirdly on the same side of the table.

 

Connor remembers something. “Oh, shit, I forgot,” he says, fumbling for his bag under the table. “I got you something.” He presents Evan with a brown paper bag, taped shut.

 

“It’s a unicorn,” Evan says with a completely straight face.

 

Connor rolls his eyes. “It’s a book.”

 

Evan quirks an eyebrow. “Is it a self-help book because I’m a fucking disaster?”

 

Connor jabs him with his elbow. “Shut up. None of that bullshit, alright? You’re fucking awesome.”

 

Evan looks at the wrapped book, a weird expression that Connor can’t quite place on his face. “Do you want me to open it now, or…”

 

“You can do it later,” Connor shrugs, trying not to make it seem like he genuinely would rather Evan not open it in front of him. Evan puts the paper bag in his bag, and by the time he’s done that, Zoe’s back with more drinks. Somehow, she’s managed to snag a tray and has bought two of everything. He fixes his sister with a questioning look. “So are you mad at your liver, or…?”

 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Evan passed the bar!” she says, almost too cheerfully. “Celebrations are in order.” She starts handing out drinks. “Also, like… I hate to be the kind of person who says TGIF, but… TGIF, fucking hell.”

 

“Let me guess,” Connor says, trying for a casual tone, “you called all of your friends before finally settling on drinking with me.”

 

Zoe’s face falls and Connor has this awkward moment of thinking he might have hit the nail on the head. “I did want to see you,” she says, kind of stubbornly.

 

“We’re glad you’re here,” says Evan firmly, nudging Connor with his shoulder, and they all clink their glasses together and down their first drinks quicker than they probably should.

 

Once they’ve both finished their second drinks, it becomes obvious that this is… kind of awkward. Zoe and Connor have only very recently repaired their relationship and they’ve never really hung out with anyone else outside of the two of them. Connor and Evan spend plenty of time together - a lot of time together - but they don’t do much with other people, either. And then of course, there’s Evan’s high school crush on Zoe to consider…

 

Yeah, this was probably a bad idea.

 

“So are you job hunting?” Zoe asks Evan, and Evan nods and tentatively starts to explain that he’s been asked to get in touch with different firms once he passed the bar, and Zoe seems genuinely interested, and Connor kind of sits there and nods in the right places for a while, then excuses himself to buy another round of drinks.

 

He takes the tray Zoe managed to steal and orders another two rounds, exactly like she did, and when he gets back to the table Zoe’s in the middle of a story about work, and Evan also looks genuinely interested, and Connor has the thought that Evan is single and Zoe is single and Evan’s a great guy and would never pull any nasty-ass, patriarchal bullshit on Zoe and maybe he should, like, make some excuse to go and leave them to it.

 

Then Evan turns and looks at him and smiles and Connor reminds himself that it would super, super weird if he and his sister slept with the same guy, so he definitely shouldn’t try to set up Evan and Zoe, and that obviously is the only reason why the idea of Evan and Zoe together makes him feel weird.

 

The three of them end up finding something to talk about after a while.

 

Namely, eggs.

 

“What about fried eggs?” Zoe asks Evan, waving her glass around and clearly interested in Evan’s egg theory. “Wouldn’t it be just as irresponsible to order fried eggs in a restaurant?”

 

“No, you see,” Evan says, warming to his topic, “there is more of a skill level required in frying an egg. It’s all about the doneness of the yolk and your personal preference. There’s variety. There’s technique.” He finishes his vodka soda and looks at Connor challengingly. “Which you will not see in a scrambled egg.”

 

“Is this really the hill you want to die on?” Connor finds himself asking, and Evan raises his eyebrows in surprise, and Connor feels bad for talking about death and is about to apologize, but Evan continues.

 

“Some people say don’t sweat the small stuff,” Evan says, and there’s a theatricality in his voice that makes Connor think that he must be a lot of fun to watch in a courtroom. “Those people are wrong. Fuck them. If you want to get upset about small shit, go ahead! It’s not hurting anyone! In fact, I would argue that getting irrationally upset about something stupid is fun.”

 

“Fun?” asks Zoe, clearly as entertained as Connor.

 

“Exactly!” Evan exclaims. “The planet is heating up and the rainforests are being destroyed and this country values guns more than people and I’m fucking furious about it. About _all_ of it. Compared to all of that, do you really think I fucking care about eggs? In the grand scheme of things?”

 

Connor finds himself thinking, completely out of the blue, that he really, really, really wants to kiss Evan right now. But it’s a completely inappropriate thought so he shoves it away. “Don’t backtrack on me now,” he says instead with a smirk. “You give me so much shit if I order scrambled eggs.”

 

“I do,” Evan continues, grinning at Connor, “and I will _continue_ to give you shit about ordering scrambled eggs because I _enjoy_ giving you shit about ordering scrambled eggs. I enjoy having something to complain about that isn’t fucking depressing.”

 

“There’s… probably a psychology in there,” says Zoe, and Connor looks back at her and she’s slurring her words. “But I’m way too drunk to tell you anything about it.”

 

Evan looks at Connor and grins. “A psychology,” he repeats. “A single, solitary psychology.”

 

“Fuck you,” says Zoe with a grin, “I have a PhD.”

 

“Fuck _you,”_ Evan replies. “I passed the bar exam.”

 

“Hell yeah you did,” Connor says warmly, and goes to order another round of drinks.

 

They go through another round of drinks, then another, until it becomes obvious that while Zoe can drink an impressive amount for someone of her size, she can’t quite keep up with Evan and Connor, but she’s going to try.

 

The bar is starting to fill up, and Evan’s looking more and more uncomfortable with the crowds and Zoe is definitely a little worse for wear, so Connor makes the executive decision that they’re all going back to his place. Once they get Zoe on her feet, it becomes even more apparent that she’s well and truly wasted.

 

“These stairs are a death trap,” Zoe slurs as Evan and Connor help her up the stairs to Connor’s apartment. Evan catches Connor’s eye and it takes everything Connor has not to crack up laughing.

 

Once they get inside, they head into the living room, where Andi is smoking a joint, wearing a kimono and listening to what honestly sounds like whale noises. Her eyes light up with joy when she sees Zoe. “Zoe, babe, how’s it going?”

 

“Good evening to you, too,” says Evan, and Connor’s honestly delighted because he loves it when Evan’s sarcastic.

 

“Oh, hey Evan,” says Andi, like it’s completely normal that Evan’s at their apartment, and… well, maybe it is, now. She stands up, and her kimono isn’t done up properly so there’s definitely a nip slip situation happening. She assessed them all critically, still smoking, and then nods decisively. “I’m going to make you all some garlic bread.”

 

“Oh my god that sounds amaaaaazing,” says Zoe enthusiastically. “Andi, you’re awesome.”

 

“I know,” says Andi, preening a little, then she heads into the kitchen.

 

“I’ll get Zoe a glass of water,” Evan says with a nod, then follows Andi into the kitchen, leaving Zoe and Connor alone in the living room. Once they’re alone, Zoe fixes Connor with a calculating look.

 

Or, as calculating as she can get while as drunk as she is.

 

“You guys are good together,” she says.

 

Connor’s eyes widen in alarm. “Evan and I are just friends, Zo.”

 

Zoe snorts. “Just friends, my ass.” She tilts her head. “I was worried, you know.”

 

“About what?”

 

“Well, you said that he was… struggling,” Zoe says, and it’s clear she’s trying to be diplomatic, but she’s very drunk and she’s not very good at it. “And I thought it would be bad. For you to be around someone who was struggling like you did in high school. Especially since you, like, don’t really let people get close to you.”

 

Connor thinks about it for a moment. “I don’t,” he agrees. “You’re right, I don’t let people get close to me.” He shakes his head. “But Evan’s not people. I mean, he is people, but he’s not… it’s different.”

 

Zoe nods like she gets it. “Yeah.” She’s sitting on the floor of the living room, on a turquoise rug, and she starts running her fingers through it. “This is so soft, oh my god.”

 

“It is,” Connor agrees.

 

Zoe smiles at him, and it’s a wistful kind of smile. “You know I just want you to be happy and healthy, right?” she says, her voice earnest and soft. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

 

“I want that for you, too,” says Connor softly, and he sits down on the floor next to her and holds her hand. “I’m glad we hang out more now.”

 

“Me too.”

 

Evan comes back into the room with two glasses of water, and hands one to Zoe and one to Connor, then joins them on the rug. “This is a nice rug,” he says, running his fingers through it.

 

“It’s so soft,” Zoe says with a nod. “So, so soft.”

 

Andi returns not long after, telling them they have to wait for the bread dough to rise, and she pulls out her copy of Cards Against Humanity, and the four of them play an enthusiastic, never-ending game, which lasts through the bread rising and cooking and the four of them devouring it, warm and fresh from the oven. Andi does bring out a couple of bottles of wine, which Evan and Connor gladly partake in but Zoe declines. Zoe’s clearly sobered up by now, but she’s sitting awfully close to Andi, and Connor’s kind of resigned to the fact that maybe they’re just going to have to hook up so they can get it out of their systems.

 

As much as Connor doesn’t want to think about it, it’s clear from the never-ending stream of women who come in and out of this apartment that Andi has to have some kind of skill in the bedroom department.

 

It’s almost two in the morning by the time they decide to wrap up the game. Zoe’s snuggled up to Andi and Andi’s running her hands through her hair. “I can set Zoe up on the couch,” Connor says.

 

Zoe just looks at Connor. “I can just sleep with Andi,” she says, and Andi nods in agreement and Connor’s not going to touch that one.

 

With that, Connor stands up, then helps Evan up, and he and Evan head back into the kitchen to put the empty wine glasses in the sink.

 

And they’re alone, for the first time since they arrived at the bar that night.

 

For the first time since they decided that they could be friends and still have sex and it would be completely fine, it wouldn’t be weird, it wouldn’t mean anything it’d just be… cardio.

 

Evan’s looking at him, eyes dark. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you all night.”

 

Connor grabs Evan by his tie and pulls him toward him and kisses him. Hard. He’s honestly not sure how he manages to get Evan back to his bedroom before taking off his pants. It takes an awful lot of self control.

 

This time it’s quick and it’s rushed and they’re both still a little drunk and they’re tired but Connor thinks he agrees that this has been in the back of his mind all night, too, this whole idea of the possibility of sex with Evan, sex they’ve agreed to beforehand that didn’t just happen, that they don’t have to feel weird about afterward because they’ve discussed it, they’ve agreed to it, they’ve agreed that since they seem to be pretty good at sex they may as well enjoy it.

 

Even though it’s quick and rushed, it still leaves Connor breathless and exhausted and it’s fucking amazing, and it doesn’t take long before they drift off to sleep, Evan keeping to his side of the bed because he doesn’t do cuddling which is fair enough. Connor kind of likes cuddling, he has to admit, but he knows it’s not fair to expect it if it’s not Evan’s thing, because Evan’s not his boyfriend, he’s just his friend he has sex with sometimes.

 

When Connor wakes up, it’s daylight and Evan’s putting on his clothes. He sits up in bed and looks at him.

 

“Hey,” Evan says. “Sorry if I woke you.” He looks nervous, like he’s not sure if he’s supposed to be here.

 

Connor looks at his phone and sees that it’s about 8 in the morning. “It’s fine,” he says, offering Evan a smile. “You doing okay?”

 

Evan smiles back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s… yeah.”

 

Connor feels a tightening in his chest. “Is this weird?”

 

“No!” Evan rushes to assure him. “Well… maybe? But not, like, let’s never have sex again weird, it’s just…” He smiles, and it’s apologetic but a little more real. “Something to get used to, I suppose.”

 

“Right,” says Connor, and he pulls back the covers and gets out of bed, only to realize that he’s completely naked. He heads to his dresser to pull out a pair of boxers and pulls them on. When he turns around, Evan’s watching him with obvious interest. Connor grins. “What?”

 

Evan goes a little red. “Nothing. It’s just… you’re really fucking hot. You are aware of that, right?”

 

Connor, who has never taken compliments well, knows he’s gone red as well. “You’re one to talk,” he says, and he moves closer to Evan, who hasn’t put his shirt on yet, and then Evan’s kissing him hungrily and tugging on his hair and they maneuver their way back to the bed and -

 

Prince starts playing loudly from the kitchen.

 

Evan pulls away and looks a little embarrassed. “I guess Andi’s up, huh?”

 

“I’ll go check,” says Connor, and he goes to his dresser and pulls out jeans and a flannel shirt and throws them on as quickly as he can. He offers Evan another smile, and Evan starts putting on his own shirt, which Connor finds disappointing for no apparent reason.

 

When Connor gets to the kitchen, he finds Zoe sitting at the kitchen island in Andi’s kimono, holding a cup of coffee for dear life. Andi’s making pancakes and dancing to _1999_ and she smiles at Connor when she sees him.

 

“Morning!” she says cheerfully. “I’ve got a ton of pancake batter and there’s coffee. Evan still around?”

 

“Yeah,” he says, and Zoe shoots him a questioning look, and Connor just looks back at her pointedly, because she’s got no leg to stand on here. “You guys have fun?”

 

Zoe screws up her nose. “You can’t ask that, it’s illegal.”

 

Andi smiles serenely and takes Zoe’s hand. “We shared a beautiful, spiritual experience together,” she says, before giving Zoe a peck on the cheek and handing Connor the spatula. “My feet are cold, I’m getting some socks, can you keep an eye on the pancakes?”

 

With that, Andi leaves the room. Zoe looks at Connor in alarm. “What the fuck was that all about?” she says, looking a little panicky. “Spiritual experience?”

 

“That’s Andi’s way of saying she had fun but she’s not going to sleep with you again,” Connor tells her with a shrug. “It happens.”

 

“Oh, thank god,” says Zoe with a sigh of relief.

 

“What, was it bad?” Connor asks teasingly.

 

Zoe groans. “Illegal. It is illegal for you to ask me that.”

 

“She’s always got someone in her bed,” Connor continues, enjoying his sister’s discomfort. “Surely she’s got some tricks up her sleeve.”

 

“Oh my god, Connor.” Evan’s standing there, fully dressed, looking even more uncomfortable than Zoe. Zoe immediately focuses in on Evan with a smirk.

 

“Good morning,” she says. “Do you want coffee?”

 

“Please,” he says, sounding grateful, and he’s holding himself awkwardly, like he’s this close to just bolting out the door.

 

“There are pancakes,” Connor announces. “Andi made them, they look good.” He flips a pancake over and notes with satisfaction it’s a nice golden brown color. “She knows her way around a pancake.”

 

“I sure do!” Andi say as she returns to the room. She heads straight for Evan and pecks him on the cheek, which results in him turning bright red. “Morning, Evan.” She beams. “It’s kind of nice, the four of us having breakfast together. I have real maple syrup!”

 

Andi takes over the pancakes, instructing Connor to start slicing fruit and Evan to get out plates, and pretty soon they’re all sitting around the kitchen island, eating pancakes and listening to Andi talk about her latest installation.

 

In all honesty, it could have been worse.

 

Zoe leaves after helping with the dishes, telling Connor she’ll see him on Wednesday for coffee, and Evan leaves not long after.

 

“Evan’s great,” Andi says warmly as she spreads herself out on the couch and rolls up a joint. “You guys are cute together.”

 

“We’re not together,” Connor tells her. “We’re just… we’re friends.”

 

“You have a hickey on your neck,” Andi tells Connor, and hands him the joint.

* * *

Evan managed to get himself home after helping clear away dishes at Connor and Andi’s apartment, feeling pretty embarrassed and a little hungover. Though it appeared that Zoe was far more of both of those than he was, and Evan assumed that was probably the first time in both of their lives where that had happened. Which Evan hoped was a sign of better things to come for him.

When he had been home for a few hours and had slept a little, Evan remembered that Connor had given him a gift the night before. Evan went into his bag and pulled out the package. He could tell it was a book, but Evan would have been seriously surprised if it wasn’t because Connor was a book person. And he had bought Evan a book.

Evan hadn’t even opened it yet and his heart already felt warm, like he had gotten a tight hug. He pulled off the brown paper bag taped over it and pulled out a copy of _The Lorax._ Evan smiled at the cover. The book was one of his favorites when he was little. His mom and dad used to play rock paper scissors to decide who would have to read it to him when he was three or four; Evan thought it was the best bedtime story. Even better than goodnight moon.

He didn’t think he had read it since his dad left, so he doubted he had mentioned it to Connor. Which just made it even better that he’d gotten Evan a copy, because he had picked it out totally on his own.

Evan opened the book and found that Connor had written a message on the flyleaf.

_“Evan,_

_Congratulations on passing the bar. The world needs more people like you who care a whole awful lot, because you’re the ones who are going to make things better. It’s a privilege to know you, and I can’t wait to see you change the world._

_\- Connor.”_

Evan knew it wasn’t super duper manly to break down crying because his friend had written him a nice message in a book, but nonetheless, there he was. Crying over a nice message in a book. Because Connor… was really nice. To him, to Evan, Connor was nice to Evan because for whatever reason he liked Evan, he liked him despite his flaws and his damage and thought he was going to change the world. Connor believed in him in a way that made Evan doubt his own self hatred a little. How could he hate himself if someone as great as Connor liked him?

Evan shook his head. Wiped his face. Picked up his phone and texted Connor. _“Thank you so much for the book you got me. It really means a lot. Thank you.”_

_“You’re welcome. You’re gonna be great, Evan.”_

_“Thank you.”_ He considered his words for a moment then said, _“That book was one of my absolute favorites as a kid.”_

_“Mine too!”_

Evan accepted a job offer approximately two weeks after passing the bar. He had a few interviews in the interim, and had several job offers, to be quite honest. The firm he decided on was still an up and comer in the environmental field, only a few wins to their name, but they offered a retirement package and student loan benefits on top of a pretty generous salary so Evan was happy to take the job.

Also it was sort of satisfying to reject an offer from Richard.

Okay very satisfying.

Whatever.

After he passed the bar he put in his two weeks at his paralegal job, because he knew he had some offers already, and then Evan felt immediately guilty because his coworkers all threw him a going away party with a cake and everything on his last day.

Alex and Mattie were very pleased about the leftover cake.

To celebrate his brand new job, Evan met up with Connor at a bar and even let Connor buy him a drink. Because it seemed to make Connor happy.

After several, several drinks, Connor announced that he was starving and they decided to head back to Evan’s and order food but somewhere in the process of walking back to Evan’s place they both seemed to remember that they had agreed to be fuck buddies and all thoughts of eating went out the window because it was far more appealing, in Evan’s mind, to get Connor out of his clothes immediately.

Connor was really attractive. Like, crazy attractive. His hair was… Evan might have been sexually attracted to Connor’s long hair, or maybe he just really liked the way Connor groaned when Evan pulled on it, or the way it fell over Connor’s face when Connor was really enjoying himself, his chest and face flushed. Evan just really liked Connor’s hair, liked touching it and pulling it and running his hands through it.

And then there was his ears? Connor’s ears were sort of big and sort of goofy but also he seemed to really like it when Evan grazed his teeth against them, when Evan whispered filthy things he wanted to do to Connor into them…

Not to mention that Connor had like a really nice collar bone? Like basically Evan could get off just looking at Connor from the neck up. He totally lost it if he tried to think about Connor below the waist. Skinny hips, long legs, very very nice dick…

Connor was undeniably good in bed. Which was great for Evan. It was also kind of amazing to remove the pressure of “what does this mean?” and “are we together now?” because Evan sucked at those questions, he stressed out about them until his brain hurt, and so keeping things straight forward, keeping them simple but still getting laid was amazing.

Evan did eventually remember that they had decided to eat and Connor, drunkenly, produced his phone to order Chinese food before Evan could try. They kept drinking while they ate their food, getting well and truly plastered, then getting distracted because well, they weren’t exactly totally dressed and Evan ended up blowing Connor because, well, his dick was _right there_ and they were super drunk and eventually they both fell asleep.

Or at least Evan assumed that they had because he woke up and Connor passed out, naked, with his head on Evan’s chest and a fortune cookie clenched in his hand.

Fuck. They’d been really drunk.

Evan blinked a few times, realizing with heavy disappointment in Drunk Evan, that Connor also appeared to be sleeping on top of a container of fried rice that had been spilled all over Evan’s mattress. It was even more disappointing to realize that Evan was also, somehow, involved in the great Rice Debacle, because when he looked at his arm he could see pieces of rice, carrot, and peas stuck to it.  

Damn.

That was pretty fucking embarrassing.

Also kind of gross.

Evan slowly rolled over, out from under Connor’s head, and stood up to assess the damage. Other than some soy sauce packets sitting on the window sill, they had mostly contained their mess to the bed… though upon closer inspection, even without the Rice Debacle, Evan still ought to wash his sheets…

There was definitely a used condom drying on the pillow. _Ugh_. Fuck sometimes having a penis was really disgusting.

Evan gathered up some clean pants then tiptoed down the hall to shower off the greasy Chinese food he had _slept on_ and strategize how to politely throw Connor out so he could clean up the mess and then sleep until Monday.

Evan tried not to think about how much rice he had just washed down the drain because gross, and after he had toweled off, decided that his best bet was just to wake Connor now and explain that they were drunken dumbasses and that he had to change the sheets.

“Connor,” Evan said gently, shaking Connor’s shoulder.

“Fuck off Andi,” Connor said, burying his face into the pillow.

“Hey, Connor, come on I need you to wake up.”

Connor opened his eyes a crack and then muttered, “I don’t dance when your tits are out Andi I told you.”

Evan sighed, then grabbed a shirt out of the drawer so that his tits weren’t out. “Connor, wake up!” He tried again, a little louder.

“Huh?” He blinked a few times. “Evan. Shit. I fell asleep.”

“Me too,” Evan said, awkwardly. “Uh. We slept on the Chinese we ordered last night?”

“We ordered Chinese food?” Connor said. He sat up, looking a little bit green as he learned he was sort of covered in fried rice. “Okay so this is embarrassing.”

“Yeah,” Evan said apologetically. “Do you want to go shower and I’ll… deal with this?”

Connor nodded and Evan handed him a towel and offered to lend him a new shirt to wear because Connor’s clothes from the night before was apparently victims of the Rice Debacle too.

“Yeah, thanks,” Connor said, accepting the t-shirt and towel and setting off for the bathroom. Evan, meanwhile, gathered up the sheets and carried them into the kitchen where he shook as much rice as he could into the trash. He disposed of the condom and the Chinese food boxes, then took the laundry to the basement to wash it.

The clothes and sheets in the wash, Evan made up his bed with clean, rice-less sheets and cleaned up whatever was left of the rice in his room. As he passed the mirror he had a semi-serious talk with himself about how he needed to get his shit together and not sleep on top of food with his naked friend anymore.

While Connor showered, Evan made some coffee and took a few painkillers for his slight hangover. It would be rude to kick Connor out without coffee, right? He didn’t really know fuck buddy protocol. Most of the people he had slept with had been one time things or proper relationships. He didn’t know the rules here.

Connor eventually emerged from the bathroom in Evan’s t-shirt and boxers, his hair wet and sticking to his neck a little. “I stole conditioner from someone,” He said.

“Probably one of the girls,” Evan said and then frowned because his roommates were in their late twenties and definitely not “girls.” “Women? Alex or Mattie, whatever. You know what I meant.”

“I can’t find my pants,” Connor said after a minute.

“They were covered in rice,” Evan said apologetically. “I put them in the wash. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor said.

Like Evan had ever been able to not worry.

“Is that coffee?” Connor asked and Evan was too hungover to quip that, no, it was something else entirely. Instead he handed Connor a mug and went through the fridge to see if they had any milk other than almond… no luck.

“Is almond milk okay? Sorry I don’t have any regular milk…”

“Almond milk’s fine.”

Evan passed the almond milk across the counter to Connor and then a sort of awkward silence kind of fell over them.

“So we got really drunk -”

“Sorry I was so drunk last n-”

They both stopped. Evan felt his face heat up. He cleared his throat, tried again. “I’m sorry I was so drunk last night. Uh. And that I woke you because we were sleeping on Chinese food.”

“It’s all good,” Connor said, looking down at his coffee mug. “I don’t mind getting woken up.”

Evan sort of smiled to himself. “Are you feeling okay?” He asked. “Not too hungover?”

“No, not too hungover,” Connor said. “I guess I didn't realize we had drank as much as we did.”

“Yeah sorry that’s probably my fault,” Evan said, shrugging. “I uh. I have a pretty high tolerance for alcohol.”

“I’d noticed,” Connor said and Evan thought that maybe he wasn’t talking about Evan’s ability to outdrink most people, because Connor was just looking at him and Evan felt like the air had gotten thinner, he was short of breath and Connor was looking at him hungrily and -

“Oh fuck me I hate the night shift!” Mattie’s voice rang out as she stepped in through the door.

“Shhh you’ll wake Ev- Oh _hello_ ,” Alex said, following Mattie through the door.

Evan felt his face heat up.

“Evan’s who is this?” Mattie asked, her eyes lighting up.

“Connor,” Connor said, his own face a bit pink because he was not wearing pants. At all. No pants. Just underwear. Fuck. “I’m Evan’s friend.”

“Evan’s _pantless_ friend,” Alex said, laughing a little. Then she seemed to realize she had said those words out loud and looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry I worked all night, ignore me, I’m Alex.”

“Mattie,” Mattie said, extending a hand to shake Connor’s, like this was oh-so-normal.

“Do you want coffee?” Evan asked because he needed to distract them, he needed a moment to summon a cloud of smoke so Connor could sneak away, he had not planned for them to meet.

“I need to go to bed,” Alex said apologetically. “And shower. I got puked on and also I got enema jelly in my hair.”

“Attractive, Alex,” Mattie said. “Really hot.”

“You know you like it,” Alex said, shaking her head. “Nice to meet you Connor.” She waved them off and headed into the bathroom.

“So how do you two know each other?” Mattie asked, eyes sparkling, and Evan wished he could just disappear.

“We uh. Went to high school together,” Connor said. “But we didn’t really. Talk much then.”

“Yeah,” Evan said lamely, his face still too hot.

“Huh, interesting,” Mattie said, still smirking. “Do you talk much now? Or is it mostly nonverbal?”

Evan thought he might pass out, and he could see that Connor’s face was really red. “Uh,” Evan said stupidly and Mattie started to laugh.

“I’m just taking the piss, ignore me,” She said, smiling brightly.

Oddly enough, that didn’t help Evan to feel less embarrassed.

“Well I should probably head out,” Connor said awkwardly.

“But your pants -” Evan said and then realized what he was saying and Mattie was still standing there. “I will. Lend you some pants to wear home.”

“Great,” Connor said, and it landed somewhere between grateful and nonchalant.

Evan hurried to his room and gave Connor a pair of sweats, apologizing. “I had no idea they were coming home now, I didn’t even know what time it was, I’m sorry -”

“Dude. Chill. It’s fine. I don’t mind meeting your roomates.” Connor pulled the sweatpants on.

“I know but they -”

“Andi knows we’re having sex too.”

“ _What_?!”

“You uh. I had a hickey on my neck after you left last time.”

“Fuck.” Evan rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Connor said, shrugging. Something Evan couldn’t exactly interpret was clouding Connor’s face. “If you’re _embarrassed_ that I’m here...”

“Oh god, no, that’s not - I’m not you, I just.” Evan stopped. Took a breath. “I’m not embarrassed that you’re here or that you met Alex and Mattie. I just… I don’t exactly announce my sex life to my roommates and… If I had known they would be here, I would have made sure we both had pants on is all.”

Connor nodded. “Right. Okay. That’s fair enough, I mean, if I lived with someone who wasn’t Andi I might have a sense of privacy too.”

Evan laughed a little nervously. “Yeah. Sorry though, if it seemed. I didn’t mean it to-”

“You’re good. It’s fine.” Connor gave him a sort of awkward smile. “We good?”

“We’re good.”

Evan walked Connor to the front door, saying a quick goodbye, be safe. When he turned back toward the living room, Mattie was drinking from Evan’s coffee cup. “So… Connor?” She said, eyebrows up.

“We’re friends,” Evan said awkwardly.

“Just friends?” She sounded surprised.

“Yeah. We just. Have sex sometimes,” Evan said, wishing he hadn’t.

“Is he any good?”

“And I’m done talking about this,” Evan said, shaking his head, heading back to his bedroom.

“Glad you’re getting some, Evan!” Mattie called out after him. Evan couldn’t help but laugh because it was all so uncomfortable.


	4. June (Four Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I just don't love elevators."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please please make sure you are checking the tags before you read this chapter. There's a warning for alcohol abuse and vomit as well.

**June (Four Months After)**

 

Evan stared down at a brand new stack of business cards that had been placed on his desk in his new office. His name stared back at him from the stack, written in pristine, boldface type on recycled paper. 

**EVAN HANSEN**

**ATTORNEY & COUNSELOR AT LAW**

Were he a different person… for example, were he Justin Pullman who had graduated just behind Evan in their class at NYU (Evan had graduated fourth, no big deal), he might have posted a humblebrag picture of his new business cards on his new desk in his new office where he had a real, proper job as a lawyer. But he wasn’t Justin Pullman and also he thought Justin Pullman was an asshole, and he was actively ignoring Justin Pullman’s LinkedIn request because word had gotten out that Evan had a job. So, instead of bragging on facebook or instagram, Evan sent a picture to his mom because he knew that it would make her happy to have proof that he had done it, he had made it, it was real.  Then he got right back to work. 

And it felt a bit like he didn’t stop working for two weeks. Long hours, networking events, his first court appearance not as a law student but as a lawyer, officially. He felt like he was already behind everyone else who had just been hired, like he had to work twice has hard to catch up to them. Once he caught up, he could relax. 

He rescheduled a lot over that two weeks. He rescheduled his phone calls with his mom, his plans with Connor, shopping with Mattie and Alex, therapy. He just needed to catch up. 

Evan was exhausted though. But at least not being able to sleep at night meant he was always prepared for the morning. There was an upside to the nightmares he kept having, nightmares where he jumped off the roof, nightmares where he didn’t reach his arm out in time to pull Connor out of the path of the Alana bus, nightmares where he fell out of trees and broke his bones and got into crashing cars, nightmares that often made him wake up screaming. 

And since he usually woke up early because of the screaming, Evan figured it was a great time to catch up on work. He got back to new clients on emails, scheduled breakfast meetings, filed motions early and followed up with judges who he knew to be difficult to contact. 

Evan was really fucking good at his new job. 

Like really good. His new supervisor was “extremely impressed” and he already had positive reviews from his new clients and everyone remarked at how hard he worked, how he was always prompt and friendly, and Evan knew he should be happy. 

He knew he should be happy. He knew this was what happy was meant to feel like. 

He went in most days before eight o’clock and often didn’t leave until after eight o’clock. If he got lucky, he might sleep four or five hours in a night. He might remember to have more than a cigarette in the sweltering heat for lunch. He might not forget to drink something other than coffee in the morning or vodka at night. He was glued to his phone, to his email, he had the best response times in the entire office.

And nobody at his new firm talked to him, really. It was always super quiet in the office, like so quiet that they sometimes turned on white noise machines quiet, and whenever Evan had a question or wanted to clarify something he usually had to sweat it out over email for ages to get a straight answer. Plus, weekly drinks outings seemed to be a part of the culture, and everybody here to seemed to have been in a frat in undergrad and acted like that still mattered, and yet every time he tagged along to this idiotic happy hours, Evan felt like an idiot, like a teenager who was playing a lawyer in a high school play. He didn’t fucking fit in with these people. Like they were all the real adults and he was just faking it constantly. 

He… started to avoid Connor, just a little. He just needed to catch up at work. He couldn’t afford to be distracted and Connor was extremely and wonderfully distracting. So he put some space between them, rainchecked a few plans for drinks or coffee or sex. He would make it up to Connor. Evan would make it up to him. He just needed to focus. 

_ “Want to get a drink later?” _

Evan frowned at the text from Connor, realizing he had been ignoring it over over two hours. Shit.  _ “Sorry, I’m swamped. Working late tonight.” _

“Hansen!” 

He jumped when his new coworker Charles knocked on his door and then jumped up to slap the doorframe. “Uh, hey, sorry, what’s up?”

“You joining us for drinks tonight?” He smirked. “Asher just won his overfishing thing.”

“You’re inviting me?” Evan asked and then regretted it deeply, deeply deeply regretted that because it sounded so pathetic and hopeful and sad. 

“Yeah, we’re all going,” Charles said. “You’re like, the only person still working.”

Evan blinked in surprise and learned, oh hey, it was almost eight o’clock on a Friday night. “Right, yeah. I’ll come.”

He rattled off another text to Connor,  _ “Also I’ve got a work drinks thing too.” _

_ “I could meet up with you?” _

_ “No,”  _ Evan sent back, then flinched at how blunt that sounded because fuck, he didn’t mean it like “no Connor I don’t want to see you” but more like “no Connor because I’m not sure I’m prepared to introduce my best friend/fuck buddy to my new coworkers.”  _ “Probably not a good idea. You’d be bored out of your mind. Sorry. Raincheck?” _

Evan followed Charles out of the main office, through the lobby and into the elevator, rattling off one last email while half listening to Charles carry on about how some of the other guys from the firm played basketball together on weekends as if that wasn’t the frattiest, bro-yiest thing in the entire universe. Evan awkwardly said that he didn’t really play basketball, but he did go running sometimes (a lie, of course, because Evan hated running and preferred to get his cardio from sex) when suddenly the elevator jerked to a stop. 

“Damn, this elevator always seems to get stuck on fifteen,” Charles said, reaching over and jabbing the red EMERGENCY button. 

Evan sucked in a deep breath. 

Modern elevators had so many safety mechanisms in place, they would be fine. 

Nobody wanted a wrongful death suit. 

The elevators and all of the elevator failsafes had been inspected and it would be totally fine, they’d be fine, they would definitely be fine. 

“Dude, are you okay?” Charles asked, looking at him. “Don’t tell me you’re claustrophobic.” 

“Ha, no, I just… “ Died in an elevator once. “I just don’t love elevators.” He forced his voice to be calm, forced his face not to betray his panic, forced his hands out of the tight fists they had curled into. 

“You know that, like, modern elevators have a fuckton of failsafes and stuff, right?”

“I do,” Evan said, like those failsafes hadn’t failed him once before. “It’s a pretty irrational thing, I know.”

“No sweat man, it normally just takes a second -” 

The elevator jerked again and Evan couldn’t stop himself from frantically grabbing at the railing in the back. Fuck  _ fuck _ did he have time to get to his phone, to text his mom, to let Connor know to watch out before they slammed into the floor? Was his ID in his pocket, how long would it take to dig his body out of the rubble, did anyone know which floor he worked on?

The elevator resumed its gentle descent. 

Evan heard his own ragged breathing, focused in on the disgusted look Charles was giving him, felt his heart pounding, painfully thumping against his ribcage. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck. He had been so sure it was about to happen again. 

He had been so absolutely positive… 

He kept opening his eyes and blinking a lot, making sure absolutely sure that he wasn’t in the bathroom staring at his own reflection. 

The elevator doors slid smoothly open. Charles walked out casually, like he didn’t notice his coworker panicking behind him. Maybe that was the kindest thing he could do. Evan didn’t try to keep pace with Charles on the short walk to the bar, instead hanging back, trying to catch his breath, trying to convince himself he was here, he was real, he was alive he was supposed to be alive his heart was pumping blood and his breaths came too fast but that proved he was alive so he was alive. 

He pulled open the door to the bar and immediately caught sight of Charles saying something to Asher who won his case, his eyes lingering too long on Evan in the doorway, probably telling Asher how the new guy was scared of elevators what a pussy and then they high fived and basically that just confirmed it for Evan. 

He ordered a drink and headed toward a smaller group of his coworkers at the opposite end of the bar from the frat boy contingent, talking about some judge who was known to be a hard ass and once rejected a motion because of a typo on the first page. Evan wanted to jump in, ask the judge’s name because this was the sort of insider information that you didn’t get in law school, this was the shit they didn’t test you on on the bar, but found his voice died before he could actually ask. He was just standing there like an asshole with his mouth open, saying nothing. 

He tried (and failed) to fake like he was yawning but honestly yawning was basically a sign of weakness in a new lawyer and this woman, Courtney, who he knew graduated the class above him at NYU said, “Oh, you think you’re tired now just wait!” And everyone laughed like haha Courtney was so charming and haha Evan was such a baby being tired after only a few weeks of working here, wasn’t he sad, didn’t he know what he was getting into? 

The whole experience was… painfully awkward. He shouldn’t have left the office but he needed to make these connections, learn from these people, even when he was exhausted, even when he wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep until Monday. 

He forced himself to drink his drink slowly, even as the ice melted and the glass got warm in his head. He stared awkwardly into a bowl of peanuts that were definitely dusty. He forced himself to listen as Lindsey told them all some gossip about how Asher and Charles had both pledged Sigma Chi in undergrad and also had, apparently, only very recently broken up an almost eight year long relationship over something that had happened back in undergrad and when that story eventually and finally ended, Evan excused himself. “Have a good night everyone,” He said quietly. 

Then Mariah, the other new associate who had been standing beside him for most of the night, said, “You’re not staying?”

Evan felt his face flame. “I would, but I could only get into the dentist tomorrow morning at seven. I have a loose filling and I don’t want to breathe dragon breath on Dr. Wallis tomorrow but I’ll see you on Monday bye.”

He didn’t even actually have a dentist in this city and now he was going to have to go find a Dr. Wallis who practiced in Manhattan on Saturdays just to cover his own ass. 

Evan took the subway home. When he managed to drag his feet up to the apartment, he headed straight for the liquor cabinet and took a long pull from the vodka bottle he pulled down. It was over half empty, and he really ought to have picked up some groceries on the way home, but Evan was too damn tired. He sat himself down on the sofa and searched mindlessly through his Netflix queue, unable to decide on something to watch, getting more and more frustrated with each title that clicked by. How could he not just pick something to watch? It was so easy. You just read a description and if you like it, you click it. 

But it wasn’t that easy because what if the show he picked had a really messy or convoluted plot? What if it was something Connor was hoping they’d watch together? What about the ethical and ecological implications of how the movie or show was filmed? Would his new bosses somehow find out he watched something which had harmed the environment and fire him? Making this decision was impossible.

And then somehow he had finished the vodka and wasted forty minutes not picking anything to watch so he ventured into the kitchen to locate more alcohol and his roku did him a solid and just started to autoplay the last thing he clicked on. In the kitchen, Evan found a bottle of rum that was pretty empty and brought it back to sofa with him, taking off his jacket and tie, not really paying attention to the episode of  _ The Joy of Painting  _ which started playing, Bob Ross talking about “happy little trees” and Evan thought wistfully of the days when he wanted to be a park ranger or something. 

Oh except he fucked that up trying to kill himself. Super normal seventeen year old kid problems. Fucking chill as hell to wreck your dreams and never tell anybody. He never went back, even though the park offered him his position again the next summer.

The rum was warm and sort of sweet and Bob was painting Evan a lovely mountain scene, adding a big pine in the foreground because “what the heck?” and his phone died, somehow his phone had died which meant he couldn’t check his damn emails and he always had to be checking his goddamn emails. 

Evan thought he should plug his phone in but Connor told him once that he got electrocuted plugging in his phone and that just wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t, so he stayed put, drinking more rum, trying to erase the memory of Charles’s lingering gaze and Lindsey’s office gossip and the elevator, the god damn elevator stopping and his heart stopping with it, just for a moment, just long enough that fucking Charles was definitely telling everyone what a freak he was, how he couldn’t handle a little elevator turbulence. 

Evan drank some more because drinking was about the only thing he could do. 

He should expect it. Feeling like he was… Almost dying. Like the universe was telling him how easily this whole living thing could be snatched away. That ought to teach him for not wanting to live. More rum would fix that, definitely more rum. Evan drank the rum, his stomach churning a little, and he laughed a little to himself because this felt fucking familiar. This was… extremely familiar. 

He did this… a lot. Before he died and died and died died died died died. Right after Sabrina went back home and he moved in with two baby doctors who were never home. He’d go to class, go to his internships, go to the library, then come home and drink. He’d drink until it all stopped hurting, drink until his fidgety hands slowed down and motormouth fell quiet and he felt it all less. 

If he had stayed dead….

_ No. No no no no, can’t go thinking thoughts like that one, Evan,  _ bad _ idea.  _

But he couldn’t stop that line of thinking. It was a train going too fast to slam the breaks.

If he had stayed dead, maybe this wouldn’t… be so much, hurt so much. Maybe he would be free from anxiety and the crippling, spine crunching fear that nobody actually heard him because nobody actually wanted to. A frequency everyone could tune out easily. 

He should have stayed dead. He was supposed to stay dead. Dying hurt, it hurt a lot, but this was worse. This was… this was unending, this was constant, this was every fucking day. This wasn’t getting better. He wasn’t getting better. 

In the back of his mind he recalled a conversation with Marcia, discussions of a safety plan, how to tell if you were in immediate danger and all that jazz. He was supposed to… call someone, Evan thought, there was like a… thing where he was supposed to call people and tell them if he wasn’t feeling safe but his phone was dead and he was fine anyway. This wasn’t a big deal. He just didn’t want to feel. That wasn’t so bad. People did it all the time. People better than Evan, more successful and normal did it so he was just trying to be like them. 

The rum was gone and Bob Ross was painting another tree and Evan finished up the rum bottle and why was the rum gone? Evan needed another drink or twenty. He stumbled toward the kitchen, banging his knee in the process, and searched the cabinets. Nothing. Out of everything. He found a box of expired microwave popcorn on top of the fridge and tossed it, before finding some unopened wine behind boxes of  _ Froot Loops _ . 

He struggled a lot with the corkscrew but managed to get the damn bottle open after a few minutes of battling with the cork and the metallic wrapping around the mouth of the bottle, sharp in his hands. 

If he were braver… 

But he wasn’t. 

He wasn’t brave or smart or much of anything. Mostly, Evan was just in debt. In debt, unsure, and definitely out of place. 

The wine was fucking bad. He sort of half wondered if it had gone off, or if his taste buds were drunk or if it was just a sign that he was not meant to be here, he was not meant to be anywhere. 

Maybe he ought to go handle this once and for all. 

Wait. 

No, that wasn’t… 

There was no guarantees that it would even fucking work, that he wouldn’t wake up the bathroom, in February, in the middle of the bar, no proof any of this had really even happened and maybe this was what dying actually felt like, just pain and monotony and desperation and broken elevators and faking it, always faking it.  

Also he was out of wine…

Fuck. 

Fuck he was not… He was not. He wasn’t…

He was not in good shape here. 

This felt bad, this was bad.

That was fucking obvious. 

This was… this was bad, this was fucking bad, this was… 

Okay, think, what was that piece of paper with the big plan? Marcia had told him something… 

Evan had written it down, it was somewhere in his bedroom, not a digital copy, something hard and on paper because he was a planner, he planned for things, and Marcia had suggested writing it down and physically keeping it somewhere safe and he listened, actually listened. He was bad at that, with her, maybe because he had accidentally picked a therapist who saw through him and he wanted to quit all the time, literally all of the time because he was supposed to get a break, he was supposed to quit working so hard only now he worked even harder to seem like he was fine, because he needed to get a good grade in therapy...

Evan walked as carefully as he could manage into his bedroom, the lights turned on hurting his eyes and the bed unmade and the trash can unemptied and, ugh, gross, there was a used condom on the top of the pile he ought to take that outside. 

He shook his head, wiped a hand over his face and… There was no paper. Not in his desk or his bedside table or under his bed or in his closet or his work bag or his pockets. Not in his folder for important documents or in the lockbox where he kept his social security card and passport and birth certificate. 

There wasn’t any paper. There was no paper and he wasn’t exactly breathing right, he wasn’t exactly present, he might not be real…

He desperately went back through his desk drawer, thinking maybe he had missed it, but in the process he knocked over his brand new, 90-day supply of some fucking drug that didn’t do shit and when he picked up the bottle the pills rattled loudly because his hands were shaking so bad with the urge to uncap it and see what happened if he swallowed them all.

Fuck fuck fuck.

He needed that paper because he couldn’t remember…There was too much writing on the paper, he couldn’t picture it, just all scribbles and nervous jerky handwriting, fingers awkwardly forming the letters and words on the sheet, pen smudging a little.

Connor. 

He’d made a list of people he could call if he needed help and he had put Connor because Connor knew he had died and died and died died died. Connor was safe, he was supposed to. He was supposed to call Connor, tell Connor if he needed help because Connor couldn’t have him committed. 

Okay. 

His phone was dead so he would just… 

Go to Connor’s house. He would just walk there and. 

Evan felt like he might cry. 

He would walk there and Connor would know. He would just know, he would know like he knew that night… But he knew that night because of all of the dying, but now his memory was blurred together, smudged, like someone had run their greasy fingers over it and smeared it and…

Okay. Evan would go to Connor’s and he would have an excuse ready, just say he wanted to have a drink, he could do that, he could fake that. He could say, oh yeah, I was going to buy some more liquor but I felt weird about it and Connor would probably take pity on him and let him come inside until he felt less like giving himself over to the mercy of gravity. 

Right okay. Right. 

He gathered his keys and left the apartment, down the stairs not up, no not up, and he made the short walk to Connor’s place, smoking a cigarette along the way and depositing the spent butt into a trashcan. The front door was always unlocked which Evan thought was unsafe and then he climbed up the murder stairs and knocked on the door. He could hear music playing, happy lively music, coming from inside,  _ “Baby how you feelin'? Feeling good as hell!”  _

Andi with her bright red afro and John Lennon-Not-Harry-Potter glasses opened the door like she was pulling back a magician’s curtain to show off a trick and Evan blinked a few times because two things became very obvious at once.

  1. He was way too drunk to be here.
  2. Andi’s tits were just… out. 



“Hello, Andi,” Evan said, trying for polite. “Nice… nice breasts you’ve got there.” He blinked, regretting that… trying to find a way to save it. “And I mean that in a very… not objectifying you with my male gaze kind of way.”

* * *

Connor hasn’t physically seen Evan in two weeks, and he’s starting to get a little worried.

 

They’ve talked on the phone, and they’ve texted, but they haven’t seen each other face to face since Evan started his new job as a proper lawyer at a firm that’s apparently pretty prestigious. When Connor had told Zoe the firm Evan was working at, she’d apparently heard of it, and then off-handedly mentioned it to their dad, who’d called Connor to ask for information about this friend of his working as a lawyer, along with a nice side of “why couldn’t you have done anything this important with your life?”. 

 

Connor gets the impression that Evan’s under a lot of stress, and he knows that Evan does usually work well under pressure - work pressure, that is. But this is new for him and it’s a whole different ball game, being a proper lawyer, and Connor just wants to be there for him. 

 

He keeps offering to meet Evan for lunch, even though it’s a cab ride away from the bookstore, and Evan keeps declining, saying he’s swamped with work, and from the sounds of it he’s just hit the ground running. They still text most days, but nowhere near as often, and there have been times when Connor has called at nearly 11pm and Evan’s still been at work. 

 

He’s worried. 

 

He’s worried, and he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t just show up at Evan’s work and demand he talk to him, because that would embarrass Evan so fucking much he’d probably never talk to Connor again. At least he’s getting daily texts, still, and Evan keeps saying that he’s busy but he’s okay, but there’s a little voice in Connor’s head that’s not quite believing it. 

 

It’s Friday night, and Connor’s texted Evan to invite him around for a drink but he’s said that he’s busy, that he has to work late and once he’s done that, he should meet with some colleagues for work drinks. Connor immediately offers to join Evan for work drinks if it’ll make it easier, but Evan’s reply is a flat out no, so Connor kind of… gets the picture. 

 

He’d just thought Evan could use some moral support, but obviously Evan’s more worried about his colleagues getting the wrong idea about them. 

 

Which was fair enough, sure. 

 

Since deciding to be fuck buddies in May, Evan and Connor have had a truly astonishing amount of sex. Enough that Andi had even commented on it, and Andi’s not exactly someone who shys away from sex. After showing up to coffee with Zoe with a blatant hickey on his neck, Connor had again explained that he and Evan were just friends, but that they were adults and apparently sexually compatible, and it was a mutually beneficial arrangement. 

 

Zoe had looked at his hickey, rolled her eyes and told Connor he was a fucking idiot. 

 

Despite having an awful lot of sex, they’re not dating, they’re not anything but just friends, so Connor gets Evan not wanting his colleagues to assume. 

 

They haven’t had sex since Evan started this new job, though, and that’s…

 

Well, okay, Connor’s got hands, he can jerk himself off if he wants to, but he misses having sex with Evan. He misses Evan for more than just sex, and he’s worried that he’s overworking himself, and it’s all just leaving him kind of… antsy. 

 

On top of that, he’s had a kind of shitty day. Leslie swapped shifts with Garrett because Garrett wanted Saturday off this week, which had led to Connor working a thankfully rare shift with Garrett, where the guy genuinely rolled his eyes every time Connor asked him to do something. On one hand, Connor gets that it’s a weird transition when someone who was your co-worker suddenly becomes your manager, but on the other hand, the asshole is being unprofessional as fuck and is really testing Connor’s patience. 

 

When he gets home from work, Andi’s in the kitchen, making meringues, and she offers Connor a joint. Connor figures he may as well and he and Andi proceed to get high and eat bean dip with tortilla chips. Connor’s got a copy of Les Fleurs du Mal by Baudelaire that he’s trying to get through, even though Caroline the foreign language supplier swears it’s way better in the original French, and is kind of enjoying the whole stoned poetry with bean dip combination. 

 

Andi turns up her bluetooth speaker and starts dancing to Lizzo while her meringues cook. Pretty soon she’s topless, which is more of a frustration than a surprise at this stage, and she’s trying to convince Connor to dance with her. 

 

“I’m not dancing with you while your tits are out, Andi,” he says with a laugh, and then there’s a knock on the door and Connor stands up but Andi gets there first, opening the door with a flourish. 

 

Connor goes over, about to apologize for his stoned, topless roommate, and there’s Evan on the doorstep, who’s kind of staring at Andi’s breasts like they’re a piece of art he’s trying to glean meaning from. “Hello, Andi,” says Evan, and he’s slurring his words and he reeks of alcohol. “Nice… nice breasts you’ve got there.” He blinks a few times. “And I mean that in a very… not objectifying you with my male gaze kind of way.”

 

Connor puts his arm around Evan’s shoulder and ushers him inside. “Hey man, you all good?”

 

Evan hiccups, frowns, and lets Connor pretty much deposit him on a barstool by the kitchen island. “Work drinks,” he says, and looks at the counter like it’s the most interesting thing in the room. 

 

“You got this drunk at work drinks?” Connor asks and immediately regrets it. 

 

Evan almost smiles and shakes his head. “No. No, no, no, no, no. I don’t… I’m a professional now, I don’t… don’t get drunk at the work drinks, I… I… I go to the work drinks and have one drink and then I try to… try to make conversation but… but… no one wants to talk to new guy especially new guy who is weird and sweaty and awkward so I had some peanuts and there was dust in the peanuts, Connor, so much dust, so I finished my one drink and then I went home. To my apartment.” He hiccups. “And then I drank… the vodka. And the rum, and also some wine? Might have been… might have been for cooking, it was not good. And when I had… had alcoholed, I thought that maybe I should buy more alcohol but that your friend Andre would think I was weird for trying? So… so I walked here, because I think you have whisky.” He points an accusing, but somewhat wavering finger at Connor. “Yooooooou usually have whisky.” 

 

Connor does, in fact, have whisky, but he’s getting the distinct impression that whisky is not what Evan needs right now. “Do you want some bean dip?” he asks instead. 

 

“There’ll be meringues soon,” Andi offers, still stubbornly topless. 

 

Evan puts his head on the counter of the kitchen island and takes a deep breath. He brings his head back up after a moment and sniffs, and Connor feels a sharp jolt in his chest and realizes that Evan’s dangerously close to tears. 

 

He doesn’t know what happened, he doesn’t know what’s going on but he knows that Evan would be totally mortified if he cried in front of Andi. Connor puts his arm around Evan’s shoulder and helps him off the bar stool, then down the hall into his bedroom. Evan sits on the edge of Connor’s bed and he’s blinking constantly and holding himself inwards, wrapping his arms around himself like he’s trying to protect himself, and Connor shuts the door and Evan’s eyes start to fill with tears. 

 

“Hey,” says Connor, sitting next to Evan and putting an arm around him. “Hey, what’s going on?”

 

Evan shakes his head, and wipes his face furiously with the sleeve of his shirt, and Connor notices that he’s still in a nice shirt and suit pants, but no jacket and no tie, and the back of his shirt is slick with sweat, because even this late at night it’s still warm out. 

 

“Can I get you a glass of water?” Connor offers, and then Evan is grabbing his arm. Hard. 

 

“Please don’t leave,” Evan says, and he sounds so desperate that Connor immediately pulls him closer to reassure him. 

 

“Not going anywhere,” Connor says, as soothingly as he can, and this is going to be bad, because Evan needs… something and Connor doesn’t know what and he’s trying to be a good friend but he doesn’t really know what to do. 

 

Evan’s openly crying now, sobbing quietly, and Connor is reminded of that night in the living room as all the furniture disappeared, and that night up on the roof of Evan’s apartment building, and everything that meant and everything that felt like and he still doesn’t know how he managed to save Evan that night on the roof, still doesn’t know what he said that made the difference, so he doesn’t know what to say now. 

 

“Do you think,” says Evan, hiccupping now, “do you think there’s a… parallel universe where I died when I was supposed to and I’m just… done? I’m done, and I don’t have to… I don’t have to feel like this anymore?”

 

There is something cold and terrifying gripping Connor’s heart. “Evan. You weren’t supposed to die. Neither of us were.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“I do know that,” Connor insists. 

 

“How?” Evan asks, taking in a long, shaky breath. 

 

“We’re not dead,” Connor tells him firmly, trying to tamp down on his own rising panic right now. “We’re not dead, Evan, and I’m really fucking glad we’re not dead, because you’re… you’re important, okay? You’re really, really important.”

 

“I don’t belong,” Evan says mournfully. “I don’t belong there. I try to make sure they can’t see it, try to make sure they can’t see that I’m just… I’m just making it all up, I don’t… I don’t deserve to be there, I don’t deserve to… I don’t…” 

 

“Evan,” Connor says, as calmly as he can, because he is seriously starting to freak out. “You deserve to be working at that law firm. You’ve worked hard, you know what you’re doing and you deserve it. And you deserve to be here. Right now. Alive. So don’t… don’t say that you were supposed to die, because I-”

 

“Please don’t call my mom,” Evan says. Begs, practically. “I know I sound… I must sound so crazy right now, like someone should just… just lock me up and throw away the key and I’ll be alone and crazy forever and it’ll have all been… been for nothing, I don’t want to be nothing, Connor, I don’t.”

 

Connor has died upwards of a dozen times and knows what it feels like to break his neck and get electrocuted and cough up a razor blade. This feeling in his chest, right now? It’s almost as painful. 

 

“Evan,” Connor says, trying to be gentle. “Evan, look at me. I need to… I need to keep you safe, okay? If you… if you stay here with me tonight, do you think you’ll be safe?”

 

Evan stops. Stares at Connor. Nods. 

 

“Okay,” says Connor, keeping his voice gentle. “I’m just going to stand up and get Andi, okay? I need her to get something for me. But I won’t leave the room unless I absolutely have to, okay? I promise.”

 

Evan’s still got a death grip on his arm but lets him go reluctantly. Connor stands up, goes to the door of his room and calls out for his roommate from the doorway. 

 

It takes a while, but Andi comes jogging down the hallway. She’s wearing one of Connor’s sweaters and she’s holding a pineapple. 

 

“I thought Evan could use some fruit,” Andi says, giving Connor the pineapple, and she’s clearly a little out of breath. “So I went to the store downstairs.”

 

Connor’s just glad she put a top on, even if it was his. “I need you to get a glass of water for Evan, okay?” he says, keeping his voice quiet. “He’s… he’s not doing good and I don’t want to leave him.”

 

Andi’s face floods with concern. “Shit, Connor. Of course, I’ll be right back.” With that, Andi heads off, leaving Connor with the pineapple. 

 

He goes back to sit next to Evan, who’s starting to look more and more green. Connor grabs the trash bin by his bed and hands it to Evan, just in time for him to vomit profusely. He keeps puking for a long time, longer than Connor’s comfortable with, and when he finishes, he just looks so fucking drained and exhausted that it makes Connor want to cry. 

 

Andi’s there with the glass of water and Evan takes it and drinks it slowly and blinks and just looks… gone. 

 

Completely gone. 

 

Like nothing exists and nothing’s important and like even if Connor tried to speak to him, he wouldn’t hear - like there’s a pane of glass between Evan and the world. 

 

“Evan,” says Connor gently, and he thinks his heart is actually breaking. “Do you want some more water?” Evan shakes his head. “Okay. Can you… if I gave you some clothes, could you get changed so you can get some sleep?” 

 

He doesn’t respond to that. Connor takes a deep breath, then stands up. Andi grabs the trash bin and takes it out of the room, presumably to clean it, and Connor gets a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for Evan to wear to bed. He has to prompt Evan along the whole way of getting changed, and at one point helps him get a t-shirt over his head. Evan’s drunker than Connor’s ever seen him, and he’s clearly in a pretty fucking dark place, and there is still a part of Connor who feels like he should get Evan to a hospital immediately but he’s going to take care of one thing at a time, he’s going to let Evan sleep off the alcohol and then maybe get a better idea of what’s happening. 

 

Connor helps Evan into his bed, then Andi knocks on the door and comes back with another glass of water and the now-clean trash bin, just in case. Connor puts the water on the bedside table on the side Evan’s on, then puts the bin next to him, then thanks Andi as she leaves. 

 

He takes a moment to get into his own pajamas, then crawls into bed next to Evan and turns out the light, hoping Evan will drift off soon. 

 

He lies there awake in the dark for a long time, listening to the sound of Evan breathing. It’s slow and not quite even and Connor can feel Evan shuddering and he can’t help it, he rolls to his side and puts a gentle hand on Evan’s shoulder. He can feel Evan relax a little at the touch. Encouraged, he pulls Evan closer to him, just a little, and soon he can feel Evan’s breathing start to relax. 

 

It’s late, and Connor’s tired, but he doesn’t think he’ll sleep tonight. Not really. He closes his eyes, and focuses on the sound of Evan breathing. It’s still not even, it’s still shaky, but it’s there, and Evan’s here and he’s alive and he came all the way to Connor’s apartment instead of just climbing the stairs to the roof of his apartment and that… 

 

That’s something. 

 

That has to be something. 

 

Connor must have gone to sleep, because he wakes up to the sound of a barely strangled yell and a swift kick to the shins. It jerks him awake and he turns on the bedside lamp and Evan’s awake and he’s pale and he’s shaking and he’s… a fucking wreck. 

 

“Hey,” Connor says, as gently as he can manage. “It’s okay.”

 

Evan looks like he’s about to say something, but he goes green, and Connor barely manages to climb over him and hold the trash bin under his head before he throws up again. And again. When Evan finally finishes puking, he’s shaking so badly that Connor knows he’s not going to be able to hold a glass of water, even if he gives it to him. 

 

Connor grabs onto his hand and squeezes it. 

 

“When did you last eat?” Connor asks. 

 

Evan shrugs. 

 

“Okay, that’s okay,” says Connor, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. “Do you know how much you drank?”

 

Evan shrugs again.

 

Connor thinks. “If I got you some crackers or maybe some toast, do you think you’d be able to eat?”

 

Evan looks at him and his face isn’t pale any more, now he’s bright red, and he looks embarrassed, incredibly embarrassed, but he’s just puked and puked and he’s still at least a little drunk and Connor thinks that even if he just pukes up a piece of toast, at least he’ll have eaten something. 

 

“I’m going to go get you something to eat,” Connor says gently. “I promise I’ll be right back, okay?”

 

Evan nods, and doesn’t look at him, and Connor quickly runs to the kitchen and pulls out a packet of crackers, then puts some bread in the toaster, and heads back to his room with the crackers and a bottle of water from the fridge, because even though he knows that Evan doesn’t like bottled water because it’s wasteful, he also knows that he’d probably drop a glass right now and that this is probably the lesser of two evils. 

 

At least, from Connor’s perspective.

 

He’ll need to clean the puke out of his trash bin, too, but may as well wait until he knows Evan’s done puking.

 

When he gets back to his room, Evan’s trying to put on his shoes. 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I have to go home,” says Evan, and he sounds panicked. “I have to… fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Connor interrupts him firmly. “Not until morning, at the very earliest. You’re… you’re not well-”

 

“I don’t have the  _ flu, _ Connor,” Evan snaps. “I’m just… just…” 

 

Then Evan sits on the edge of Connor’s bed and holds his head in his hands, and Connor can hear him breathing in, long and shaky. 

 

Connor sits down next to him and tries to figure out what the hell to do next. 

 

That question is answered by Evan making a retching sound, and Connor barely gets the trash bin under his face before he pukes again, and then again, and Connor is starting to think that this is bad, this is really, really fucking bad. 

 

When Evan finally stops puking, Connor puts a tentative hand on his shoulder. “I think we need to get you to a hospital,” he says, and he’s careful to keep his voice gentle, because he knows Evan is not going to want to hear this. 

 

It takes a moment for his words to sink in but when they do, Evan’s response is to basically start fucking screaming. 

 

“No! No, I can’t, you can’t, I’m not… they’ll know, they’ll fucking know and I can’t, I can’t, I can’t-”

 

“They’ll know what?” Connor asks, dreading the answer, and Evan is trying to stand up, trying to leave, and Connor has to physically stop him, which isn’t difficult because Evan is shaking so fucking badly, and he has his arms on Evan’s shoulders, trying to get him to sit down, trying not to hurt him as he yells and he rages. 

 

Then all of a sudden, Evan just… stops. Like a puppet that’s had his strings cut. Connor has to catch him, and sit him back on the bed, and he looks like he’s about to pass out and he’s sobbing and Connor is sick with worry. 

 

“Can I help?” says Andi from the doorway. Connor hadn’t even heard her come in. 

 

“I don’t know,” says Connor helplessly. He turns to see Andi, once again topless, covered in yellow paint. 

 

He has no idea if they woke her up or if she was up late painting, but honestly he doesn’t have time to fucking worry about that right now. 

 

“I’ll make him a smoothie,” Andi says, nodding decisively, and she’s so fucking calm and matter-of-fact, and Connor kind of appreciates it and hates it in equal measure. 

 

Connor brushes Evan’s hair off his face, which is damp with sweat and clammy and cold. “Andi’s making you a smoothie,” he says after a moment. “I think… I think we need to get some fluids into you. Maybe some toast, if you can handle it.” Evan doesn’t respond. Connor puts his arm around him to support him as best he can. “You said you drank vodka and rum and wine?” 

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, and his voice echoes with shame, and it hurts Connor to hear. 

 

“Okay,” Connor says, fighting to keep his voice calm. “Okay. So… you drank a lot, dude, even for you, so I think… I think first we get some kind of fluids or whatever into you, some food if you can stomach it, and then you try to get some more sleep, yeah? Then tomorrow we can… we can talk about it.” 

 

“M’tired,” Evan says, and he sounds fucking exhausted. 

 

“I know,” Connor says, and then Andi’s back with a smoothie that looks… green and revolting, but she says it’s got a banana in it and some kale and also coconut milk, and Evan manages to drink at least half of it, which is good, and then Connor manages to get Evan to eat a handful of crackers, and he keeps those down for at least ten minutes, then pukes again. 

 

But only once, which is… an improvement. 

 

Maybe. 

 

Andi reappears with a damp washcloth and very matter-of-factly hands it to Evan, who stares at it for a moment then wipes his face and Connor’s sure that he’d be mortified if he weren’t so drunk and that tomorrow he’ll be so embarrassed he might actually fucking combust, and then between them they manage to get Evan back into bed. Andi takes the trash bin and comes back a few minutes later having cleaned it, then retrieves her pineapple which has been sitting on the bedside table, taking in the proceedings with apparent disinterest. 

 

Evan’s spread himself out on the bed, and Connor knows he’s not going to fucking sleep, so decides not to disturb him. He asks Andi to watch Evan for a moment, then grabs one of the armchairs from the living room and brings it into his room, then puts it in the corner next to an electrical socket so he can plug in his phone and read something on his Kindle app. It’s not his preferred method of reading, but he’ll take whatever he can get at this stage. 

 

“Tell him I hope he’s okay,” Andi says gently, before turning off the light and heading out into the hallway, closing the door behind her. 

 

Connor settles into the armchair and reads and watches over his friend until the morning light. 

 

 

* * *

The furniture disappeared and Connor fell forward, and he scrambled to try and catch him but he was coughing up blood, coughing up pine needles, his arm hanging at a strange, broken angle at his side and then he was standing on his roof, and the air was freezing, freezing cold and his face was wet and Evan wanted to be done, he just wanted to be done, and his younger self, this Younger Evan with a lopsided nametag and lopsided smile, cast on his arm, was reaching out, hitting him in the chest, saying he had to do this and the mirrors were all gone, and  _ if a boy falls in the forest and nobody is around  _ and Evan was on an elevator next to an impatient man, attractive but frowning and then the elevator jerked to a sudden stop. 

And Connor looked at him, his nose bleeding despite there being no impact yet, and said “Did you miss the memo? We’re gonna die in like three seconds.”

And Evan opened his eyes and screamed. 

His head hurt so badly that at first he thought maybe he had plummeted to the bottom of an elevator shaft but then a face swam in front of his eyes and arms had come around Evan, too hard, too tight, and Evan couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, tried to struggle away. 

“Ow, fuck -”

Evan blinked a few times. Stopped fighting. He was still breathing too hard, his hands and arms and legs shaking with the effort of sitting up, existing.

Connor was beside him, a hand coming away from his mouth smeared with blood and Evan had done that, had he hit Connor,  _ what was he even doing here? _

His head swam, too full of information. Elevator, bar, home, vodka, rum, wine… Connor. He had come to find Connor because he. He was supposed to talk to Connor, that was the plan if things weren’t looking good…

“Fuck,” Evan said, and his voice came out trembly and harsh and weird, like he had smoked an entire pack of cigarettes or spent the night throwing up. “Are you… did I… what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Connor used his thumb to wipe away more blood from his lip. “You just got me on accident,” He said. “I’m fine.” His jaw shifted, his face suddenly more serious: straight line mouth, eyebrows knitted together, eyes narrowed a little. “Are you okay? You… you were really drunk last night.”

Evan still wasn’t sure he was sober. He felt a little seasick. He looked around, trying to piece together the night before… There was an armchair in the corner, a trash can beside the bed, a plastic water bottle… his clothes were on the floor next to his shoes. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I… Oh my god what the fuck did I do last night?” He rubbed a shaky hand over his face. 

“You don’t remember?” Connor sounded worried. 

Evan shrugged. He remembered some of it, sure, but he… “I don’t really remember coming over.”

Connor frowned. “You… It was kind of late, you were pretty drunk when you got here,” Connor said. “Andi opened the door topless?”

“Oh shit,” Evan said because he had a vague memory of seeing her tits and of saying something weird to her about it and then just… it all sort of crashed down on him, why he had had to come here, why he had gotten so drunk, just what the fuck did he think he was doing. “Oh fuck, fuck, I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry, I should not have just showed up like that-” 

His stomach gave a sudden, violent twist and Connor was putting the trash can in front of him and Evan threw up and was sort of concerned that somewhere along the line he’d had… something green to throw up. He vomited until all that was coming up was bile, until he literally could not throw up more, and Connor handed him the plastic water bottle which Evan struggled to take with shaky hands. “S-sorry,” He said, noticing his eyes had watered and trying to wipe them before Connor noticed. “I’m... that was gross, I’m really fucking sorry.”

Connor gave him a sort of tired smile. “It’s fine. Please drink that water, okay? I’m just going to clean this out, okay?”

Evan dutifully drank the entire bottle of water as he was told. When Connor still hadn’t returned, he decided he need to get the fuck out of here before Connor’s hospitality ran out, and he could probably venmo him for anything he might have ruined while he was a drunken disaster. He just… he just needed to go. He had to get out of here before he made this any worse. He had to get out of here because Connor was probably never going to speak to him again. 

Evan forced himself to his feet dizzily, trying to find his things. He gathered up his clothes and shoes and started to look around for his keys, his head throbbing, his head spinning...

“What are you doing?” Connor had another water bottle and a clean garbage can in his hands. 

“I should… I should go, I’ve made a mess and I’m really sorry.”

“You can’t leave, Evan,” Connor said wearily. “Not until you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Nothing,” Evan said. “It’s just, I was just stupid last night and I’m sorry, okay? I just want to… to go home and sleep this off, okay?”

“No,” Connor said. “I need you to tell me what’s going on. You’re… You’re scaring the shit out of me, and you begged me not to take you to a hospital -”

“Hospital?” 

“Yeah, you were really sick last night and, honestly, I’m still not sure I made the right call not bringing you in because you look like shit and you drank way too much last night and you’ve woken up screaming  _ twice _ . So I’m fucking scared, okay,  _ you _ \- this is scaring me.”

That hurt. Fuck fuck fuck this was mortifying. He didn’t want to scare Connor, he didn’t mean to do this, just everything…

God damn it, Evan hated to cry. But Connor looked terrified and everything he had been rescheduling, ignoring, everything that had built and built and tried to drown in liquor forced its way to the surface and he took a shuddering breath and said. “I. Sometimes I still… I wish I had stayed dead. And I know, I know, I’m not su-supposed to want that because I’m supposed to be better now, but… It’s not working and I’m so tired, Connor. I am so fucking tired.”

Tears slipped hotly down his cheeks, and Connor sat beside him, arm around his shoulders, and Evan looked away, he couldn’t look at Connor because he was ashamed of himself, he had failed at this thing they had done together, he was failing to thrive. Most people might take dying twenty odd times and want to seize every second, every breath out of living, and Evan just couldn’t. He struggled, every fucking day, and it wasn’t fair. 

“Did something happen last night?” Connor asked quietly, after he had wiped his face and pulled away. 

“It’s… it’s really stupid.”

Connor didn’t look impressed. 

“I. My coworker Charles and I got stuck in the elevator at work for a couple of minutes? It just. Stopped.” 

“Shit.”

“And I… It’s stupid but I just couldn’t stop thinking that it was happening again, that I’d just… And I was relieved, almost. Because it felt like even if I woke up in my bathroom and started all over, I could handle that better than whatever the fuck I think I’m playing at right now.” He wiped his face again. “I’m fucking… I’m too stupid to figure out how everyone else does it. How they sleep at night and show up every day and work these hours and not fuck things up. I’m falling behind, I can’t seem to socialize with people, my clients probably think I’m a joke because I fucking  _ am _ .”

“You’re not a joke,” Connor said. “You’re allowed to have a hard time adjusting.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Evan said, cried, whatever. “You’re fine. How are you just fine? We died so many times and we’re just supposed to… just live our lives like it’s not going to happen again, with no proof?”

“I’m not fucking fine, okay?” Connor said, sounding frustrated. “I’m not. I have nightmares and I am in therapy again and I spend a lot of time just worried out of my mind that something might happen to me or to you, okay? I’m not fine.”

“You… you have nightmares too?” Evan said, feeling small and stupid. 

“Yeah. Not so many anymore, but yeah.” Connor gave him a sad, half smile. “Was that why you were yelling when you woke up?”  
Evan nodded.

Connor looked horrified. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” 

“It’s not - You didn’t. Don’t.  _ I’m _ sorry.” He wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I’ve… I’ve been getting bad again. Work is hard, and I know, I know I’m supposed to be getting better now but I’m just.” He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t. He shook his head, he couldn’t breathe, he was probably going to be sick again. “I’m just… I’m sorry… Fuck, I’m just really sorry.” 

And then he was throwing up again. Just water, he was throwing up water which was just fucking disgusting. Connor rubbed a hand over Evan’s back as he got sick again, nothing actually coming up anymore. 

“I still think you need to go see a doctor.”

“I’m fine,” Evan mumbled. “Just. Hungover. I’m so sorry I showed up like this.”

“Please don’t be sorry,” Connor said. “I’m glad you came over. I’m sorry you were doing badly last night, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“I just puked in your garbage,” Evan said, exhausted, “So I sort of doubt that.”

Connor grabbed onto Evan’s hand tightly. “Evan. That’s not what I’m saying… I’m saying that I’m glad you’re here. That you’re alive.”

Oh fuck. 

Fuck. 

_ Fuck _ . 

“I have to go.”

“Evan-”

Evan tried to shove his foot into his shoe, tried to stand, “I have to go  _ home _ .”

* * *

 

Evan’s a grayish kind of pale and he’s so, so sick and shaky but he’s trying to put on his shoes and stand up at the same time. 

 

“I have to go  _ home,” _ Evan says, desperately, and Connor thinks on his feet. 

 

“Okay,” he says. “But I’m going with you.”

 

Evan stares at him and Connor thinks he’d be going red if it weren’t for the fact that his skin is genuinely gray and sickly. “You don’t need to-”

 

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” Connor says, as kindly as he can, “but I don’t trust you alone right now. If you want to go home, fine, but I’m going with you.”

 

Evan opens his mouth like he’s going to argue, then clamps it shut quickly. He sits down. “Okay,” he says, and his voice is so, so small and Connor is sick with worry. 

 

“I’ll call a Lyft,” Connor tells him. “Just… don’t worry about getting changed, just put your shoes on.”

 

Evan kind of stares at the ground for a moment. Connor sighs, then gets himself organised. He grabs a beat-up duffel bag out of his closet and throws in a change of clothes for himself, a couple of books from his bookshelf, his phone charger, his wallet and his keys. Then he picks up the pile of Evan’s clothes and belongings and throws them into the bag, and picks up his phone and orders a Lyft. 

 

Once Connor’s put his own shoes on, he helps Evan get his shoes on, and Evan looks so fucking embarrassed Connor’s worried he’s going to start hyperventilating. Evan’s holding onto the water bottle for dear life, and Connor does another quick scan for anything else belonging to Evan. 

 

“Did you bring your phone?” he asks. Evan shrugs. 

 

Connor figures he might have left it at home. He fishes Evan’s keys out of the pocket of his pants, then zips up the bag, and throws it over his shoulder and helps Evan to his feet. 

 

They manage to get out of Connor’s room without incident. 

 

In the living room, Andi’s no longer topless, but she is in what looks like a pink tuxedo jacket and no pants. She looks at them, expression deeply concerned, then clambers to her feet and takes Evan’s other side. 

 

“Are you taking him to the hospital?” Andi asks Connor. 

 

“No,” says Evan firmly, and Andi looks at Connor with slight alarm. 

 

“I’m taking him home,” Connor says wearily. He’s really fucking tired. “I ordered a Lyft.”

 

“Okay,” says Andi. She lets go of Evan’s side quickly, then runs to the kitchen, and comes back with a handful of plastic bags and gives them to Connor. “You might need these.”

 

Between them, they manage to get out of the building and safely down the murder stairs. 

 

The Lyft driver doesn’t look thrilled to have an obviously sick Evan in his car, but Connor hands Evan the plastic bag and hopes for the best. 

 

Miraculously, Evan does not throw up in the Lyft. 

 

He does, however, throw up in the kitchen sink of his apartment once Connor finally gets him up the stairs. 

 

Three times. 

 

When he’s done, he’s so shaky that Connor’s sure he’s going to pass out. “Okay,” says Connor firmly. “You’re going to bed.”

 

He manages to get Evan to his room, take off his shoes and put him in his bed. Evan closes his eyes and starts snoring almost immediately, and Connor watches him carefully for a moment and notes that he’s still pretty much fucking gray, and this is… 

 

Not good. 

 

Not fucking good at all. 

 

Evan’s phone is on his bedside table. It’s dead, but Connor picks it up anyway, then plugs it in to the charger and waits for a while for it to have enough power to turn on. 

 

Once it’s on, Connor enters in Evan’s security code (which he’s known since a drunken evening late May), then goes through his contacts list to find Alex. 

 

Alex, Evan’s roommate, who is a fucking doctor and might actually be able to help, which would be great because Connor is kind of freaking out. 

 

The call connects after about three rings. There’s tons of background noise, but Alex’s voice is clear. “Evan? What’s up?”

 

“It’s, uh, it’s Connor?” he says, feeling kind of like an idiot. “I’m Evan’s friend. We met like a month back?”

 

“Sure, yeah,” says Alex, sounding like she does remember him. “Hi Connor. Is Evan okay?”

 

Connor hesitates. “I don’t think so,” he admits finally. “He, uh… he drank a lot? Last night? Like, a lot, and then he showed up at my apartment and he just keeps throwing up and it’s been hours and he’s asleep now and I got him back to your place and he’s in bed but he’s like… basically fucking gray and he’s kind of… not been able to stay awake much but he completely freaked out when I suggested taking him to the hospital but I’m… I know you’re a doctor and I don’t know if you’re busy or what but if there’s anything you could do I would really appreciate it because I’m freaking out.” 

 

“Fuck,” says Alex, and she sounds… pissed off. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay? Is he awake?”

 

“He’s sleeping,” Connor says.

 

“Is he breathing?” 

 

“Yeah,” Connor says, feeling his heart clench painfully. “Yeah, he’s breathing, and he’s slept, and he had some of a smoothie at, like, three this morning, but he last threw up maybe ten minutes ago?” 

 

“Okay,” says Alex curtly. “I’ll get a cab and be there soon. In the meantime just… keep watching him, okay?”

 

Alex hangs up before Connor can reply. 

 

Connor puts Evan’s phone on the bedside table to charge more and takes a deep breath in. Runs his fingers through his hair. 

 

Then looks around the room. 

 

The curtains are open, and the sunlight is streaming through, and the room looks like a hurricane’s gone through it. 

 

Which is a sure sign that Evan is Not Okay. Evan tends to keep things neat - neater than Connor does, anyway - and this is… this is a fucking mess. 

 

Connor very quietly starts to clean up, keeping one eye on Evan the whole time. He puts laundry in the laundry hamper, books in the bookshelves, tidies up piles of paper that are spilled all over the floor, like they’ve been knocked over, and there’s a piece of paper behind the desk, peeking out from against the wall like it’s slid down and got stuck, and Connor pulls it out and looks at it. 

 

It’s written in Evan’s handwriting, which is different to most of the papers that are typed, and at the top it says the words ‘Safety Plan’ and there’s a list and at the top of the list, the first bullet point, it says CONNOR. 

 

There is a deep, aching pain in Connor’s chest, seeing his name there in capitals, and it’s so much neater than his name on a cast nearly ten years ago but somehow it reminds him of it. 

 

Connor smoothes out the paper, then looks at Evan again. 

 

Still sleeping. 

 

Still breathing. 

 

He looks at the wall, where there’s a poster of what looks like some kind of national park pinned up with two thumb tacks. 

 

Connor removes one of the thumb tacks, then repositions the remaining one so it holds up the poster, then takes the spare thumb tack and uses it to pin Evan’s safety plan right under the light switch. 

 

After a moment, he finds a pen on Evan’s desk, and circles his own name on the safety plan, writing a quick note next to it. 

 

Connor just… needs Evan to know Connor is there for him. Whenever he needs him.

 

He hears the sound of a door unlocking, then seconds later the door to Evan’s room swings open, and there’s Alex, in blue scrubs, and she’s carrying a large bag and her face is tight with fear and frustration and she pushes past Connor and heads straight to Evan, shaking him awake. 

 

Evan’s eyes fly open with a jolt and he looks disoriented, like he’s not sure where he is, and Connor’s about to say something when Alex gets there first. 

 

“What the actual fuck, Evan? What the hell were you thinking?”

 

Evan blinks a few times, looking more and more confused. He winces a little, like the volume of Alex’s voice is hurting him, and Connor moves to stand next to him. “Evan, hey,” he says gently. “Do you… do you remember how we got here?”

 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” says Alex, and she starts busily examining Evan, taking his pulse and pulling out a stethoscope and a pressure cuff from her bag and looking more and more pissed off as she continues taking his vitals. 

 

Evan looks at Alex as she works, then back at Connor, and he’s still looks confused, and it’s breaking Connor’s heart. “I’m fine,” Evan says weakly. “You’re worrying about nothing.”

 

“You’re not fucking  _ fine,” _ Alex snaps. “You’re shaking and you’re probably fucking dehydrated and you’re a stubborn asshole who should have let Connor take you to the hospital.”

 

“I’m not going to the hospital,” Evan says, surprisingly strongly for someone who’s as much of a fucking mess as he is right now. “I… I haven’t got-”

 

“I know,” says Alex curtly. “That’s why I smuggled you out an IV so we can get some fluids into you.”

 

Connor looks at her, more than a little surprised. “Really?”

 

Alex looks at Connor, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “I’d hoped it was a just in case scenario,” she snaps. “Call me sooner next time, okay?” 

 

“There’s not going to be a next time,” Connor says firmly, looking at Evan. “When you’re… when you’re up to it, you’re calling your therapist, and...”

 

He trails off, realizing that he doesn’t know what Alex knows about Evan’s mental health and aware that Evan doesn’t fucking like talking about it. 

 

Alex’s expression softens, just a little. “I know all about your shitty insurance, dumbass,” she says to Evan. “It’s bullshit, and I hate it, so I get why you wouldn’t let Connor take you to the hospital. But  _ call me _ next time you have a medical emergency, okay? I didn’t go through med school because I thought it was  _ fun, _ Jesus  _ fuck _ , I want to  _ help _ people. Especially my friends.” She pulls more stuff out of her bag which seems to be getting more and more Mary Poppins-esque by the minute, then ties off Evan’s arm so she can start looking for a vein. 

 

Evan can clearly see Alex has a needle now and is looking fairly alarmed. “Do you really need to-”

 

“Yes,” Alex says. She gives Evan a hard look, stopping her search. “Congratulations, asshole, you’ve given yourself alcohol poisoning.”

 

Evan visibly shrinks, then looks at Connor, expression a little pleading, and he throws his hands up. “I’m not arguing with a doctor, dude.”

 

“Fuck,” Alex says, looking at Evan’s arm in annoyance. “Fucking fuck, where the fuck are your fucking veins, Evan?”

 

“Do you talk to all your patients like this?” Evan asks wearily. 

 

“Only the idiots who don’t call me in emergencies,” she shoots back. She turns to Connor. “There’s a coat rack in the living room. Go get it for me.”

 

Connor has no idea why she needs a coat rack, but goes to the living room to grab it anyway. When he comes back, Alex is still looking for a vein. She barely looks up as Connor stands awkwardly with the coat rack. 

 

“There’s a heat pack on the shelf in the bathroom,” Alex says curtly. “Go get it and heat it in the microwave for a minute, then bring it back.”

 

Connor puts down the coat rack and does as he’s told. When he gets back with the now warm heat pack, Alex has somehow rigged up the an IV bag to the coat rack, which he has to admit is pretty fucking ingenious. He hands Alex the heat pack, and she puts it on the crook of Evan’s elbow, and Evan starts to look a little green so Connor pulls the plastic bag out of his jacket pocket and hands it over, just in time for Evan to puke again. 

 

When he’s done puking, Alex goes back into her bag and pulls out some alcohol wipes, then takes Evan’s arm and cleans it and kind of nods to herself, having clearly found a vein. Connor takes the plastic bag of puke away from Evan and cleans it up, then empties Evan’s trash bin into the large trash bag in the kitchen, then comes back to find that Alex has successfully got an IV into Evan’s arm and is busy taping the needle in place so Evan can’t accidentally pull it out. 

 

Evan looks exhausted once she’s done, like he’s about to go right back to sleep, and Alex is looking at him with a critical eye. 

 

“How much did you drink?” she asks, and Evan looks away. She crosses her arms in annoyance. “I’ll be able to tell from what’s left in the kitchen, anyway. Looks like you threw a rager in there.”

 

“Is it… okay if he goes to sleep?” Connor asks, a little hesitantly. “Like, do we need to keep him awake or anything?”

 

“He can sleep,” Alex says with a careful nod. “One of us needs to keep an eye on him.”

 

“I’m fine,” Evan says weakly. He looks so fucking embarrassed, but also like he’s about to pass out. 

 

“You’re not,” Alex says, and she sounds genuinely upset now, “but you will be.” 

 

Moments later, Evan’s head is against his pillow and his eyes are closed and he’s out for the count. Connor turns to Alex. “He left his phone here,” he says quietly. “I didn’t… I didn’t have a way to call you until I got him home, just now, but he… he came to my place, I don’t even know how he got there in one piece, he was just so fucking drunk, he…”

 

Alex looks kind of guilty. “I could tell he wasn’t sleeping well,” she says. “We work weird hours and I’ve seen him up at times he shouldn’t be. And I know the new job is stressful and he works long hours and… I didn’t realize it was this bad.” 

 

“Can I get your number, just in case?” Connor asks, and Alex nods, and they go about exchanging phone numbers. 

 

Connor looks back at Evan, who’s asleep and still so gray-ish pale. 

 

“I can stay and watch him if you have to go,” Alex offers. 

 

“I don’t have to go anywhere,” Connor counters. “I’m not… I’m not leaving him.” He sighs. “But I… I think this isn’t… he’s not sleeping well, he’s not eating properly, I think he’s basically surviving on coffee and cigarettes and alcohol and that’s not… that’s bad, so… I thought I might go get him some groceries and maybe do some of his laundry or whatever?” Connor can feel Alex looking at him and realizes his cheeks are heating up. “I just… he’s not doing well and maybe if I can, like, take some things off his plate, then it’ll be easier, you know?”

 

Alex gives him this look he can’t quite decipher. “I can watch him while you do some of that,” she says gently. “I’d like to keep checking his vitals, anyway.” 

 

“Okay,” says Connor.

 

“And Mattie finishes in a couple of hours and doesn’t have an evening shift,” she says, “so I’ll text her and let her know what’s going on and we can kind of tag team it.”

 

“You guys are great,” Connor says, and he’s kind of fucking relieved. “You… it’s really great that you care about him so much.”

 

Alex snorts. “Well, finding a roommate who isn’t a serial killer in New York City is such a hassle.” Her expression grows serious. “I know we don’t see him much, but… we like Evan. He’s a good guy. And it sucks he’s so hard on himself, you know? It sucks that he doesn’t realize how great he is.”

 

It’s an understatement, but Connor wholeheartedly agrees. 

* * *

Evan opened his eyes slowly. His head was pounding, and a stinging pain in his arm. He blinked a few times, the room coming back into focus. There was an IV in his arm, hanging from a coat rack next to his bed.

Fuck. Right. Alex. Connor called Alex. 

Fuck. 

He blinked a few more times, trying to locate the source of a weird rattling noise, and open turning his head dizzily spotted Alex passed out on the other side of his bed. Her mouth was wide open, and she was snoring, but she was still in her scrubs and had a stethoscope around her neck. 

Fuck. He should apologize to her. Tell her to get some sleep, that she didn’t need to babysit him just because he was an idiot.

“Alex,” Evan said, his voice coming out raspy. He tried to nudge her gently. “Alex.”

Her eyes flew open, and she loudly said, “Code blue?” 

“No, just… me,” Evan said, flinching at the noise. 

She shook her head, rubbing her eyes, and then fixed Evan with a frown. “Oh. Shit sorry, I had an alarm set but I dozed off.” She looked him over. “You look like shit.”

“You snore,” Evan said. 

“So do you.”

Alex sat up properly, reaching for his wrist and looking at her watch to take his pulse. She frowned a little, then got up and pulled a blood pressure cuff out of her bag. “Gimme your arm,” She said, and Evan obliged. 

“I’m really really sorry,” He started to say. 

“Shh!” Alex said, putting the stethoscope to his skin and it was cold and the cuff was too tight around his arm. 

“Your pulse is better,” She said after a moment. She rummaged in her bag some more and produced a thermometer which she ran across his forehead. “Blood pressure’s still a little low, but your temp is back up too. That’s good.”

Even though his throat was pretty sore and his lips were really dry, Evan pressed on,  “I’m really really sorry. I fucked up. I’m sorry Connor called you, I can move out if you want, I-”

“Dude, you’re not going anywhere. I’m only mad that you didn’t call me sooner.”

He closed his mouth around a protest. His face felt too hot, his eyes stung, and Alex laughed slightly and said, “How do you have any fluids to cry dude? You’re dehydrated as fuck.”

“Shut up,” Evan mumbled, and tried to wipe at his eyes, forgetting momentarily about the IV in his arm and regretting it. 

“Do not fuck that up dude, it was a bitch getting a vein.”

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I’m really… I’m sorry.”

“I know.” She patted his knee awkwardly. “Connor kind of spilled the beans on you having mental health shit, by the way.”

“Wasn’t it obvious?” Evan muttered.

“I mean…” Alex shrugged. “Yes and no? I’ve been trying to give you anti-anxiety meds, like, since we met, but I… I didn’t know. It was this bad.” 

Evan nodded, his eyes prickling again because he had been so careful, so fucking careful to try not to let this interfere with Alex or Mattie or Connor’s lives and he had really screwed it up. He had made a massive mess and he couldn’t… he couldn’t turn it off or rewind the clock or get a reset or do-over. He had fucked up and now everybody knew he was fucked up. 

“You know why Charlie, our old roommate, quit the program and moved out, right?”

He didn’t. Evan shook his head. 

“It’s a lot of pressure, learning to be a doctor. The hours are stupid, you don’t sleep, and most of us exist on nothing but protein bars and coffee.” She frowned. “Mattie and I missed it, because Charlie was a surgical intern and we only sometimes saw him, and… He stopped sleeping. He didn’t sleep for over a week. You, like, die if you go twelve days without sleep, and after three you start to hallucinate, and Charlie went nine days. He had a break down and when he got out of the psych ward, he said he couldn’t handle the program and moved back home to Iowa.” She kept frowning. “Don’t… I don’t want that to happen to you, okay? I know I’m never here and I’m kind of a zombie when I am, but I want you to call me. I want you call me if you need help, alright? I’m fucking serious.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t be a martyr dude. There’s nothing noble about suffering.”

Evan nodded. He felt like he was getting a talking to from his mother, like he was getting grounded, he felt so stupid and small.  “I’m really… really fucking sorry.”

“Me too,” Alex said. “I yelled at you like… more than was appropriate.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “I deserved it. I fucked up.”

“Yeah man,” Alex said. She grinned a little. “Did I ever tell you how I met Mattie?” 

Evan shook his head. 

“She dragged my ass out of a bathroom stall our last year of med school.” Alex frowned. “I went out with some friends and had like… a billion drinks. Seriously, I was beyond blacked out. And my asshole friends abandoned me in the bar bathroom because I couldn’t stop barfing.”

Evan felt his stomach turn. “Please don’t-”

“Sorry.” She looked apologetic. “Anyway, I’d stopped breathing. Mattie gave me CPR until some paramedics showed up.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, she saved my life and then screamed at me for like a full forty minutes when I woke up in the ER. We didn’t really know each other, and she just decided to be my friend because I fucking needed one,” She smiled sort of fondly. “She’s my best friend, and best friends will tell you what’s what when you’re in trouble. So. I’m sorry for yelling but… take it as a compliment.”

Evan did not deserve that, he really really did not deserve that. He looked down at the blanket on his bed, picking at a thread. 

“Alright, so I’m not going to do the thing where I say something and then you say something and then we hug, alright, because I’ve been awake for the better part of the last fifty hours, okay?” 

“Alright.”

“Just, dude. You scared the hell out of me. And Connor too, I think.” She stood up. “We’re friends. Come talk to me if something’s up. I want to help. I’m basically a golden retriever, I just want to help.”

“Okay.”

“I need to take a shower, but I’ll be back in like twenty minutes to check on you. Okay?”

“Alright.” Evan couldn’t look at her. “Did Connor…?” He felt stupid for bringing it up because of course Connor left, of course he was gone, of course he didn’t want to be around Evan anymore because his disaster was probably catching, that’s probably why they had died all of those times… 

“Oh, he ran to the store to pick up some groceries,” Alex said like it was obvious. “You look like you haven’t eaten in a week, bro.”

Evan felt another flush of shame. For the most part, he hadn’t had time to eat...

“He’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”

All Evan did was worry, but he got the point. 

Alex left, leaving the door open, and Evan flopped pathetically back on his pillows. He was so drained, it was an effort just to keep his eyes open. Alex thought they were friends… so she yelled at him. Connor had brought him home and called Alex… 

Fuck. 

Andi had helped him down the stairs this morning. Connor had to help him put on his shoes.

Evan shivered, despite it being the middle of summer, and pulled the blankets up around him gently, trying not to disturb the IV. He could hear the shower running and thought about slipping and breaking his neck in that shower, how they needed a non slip mat to be safe, and passed out again. 

When Evan next opened his eyes, Connor was putting folded clothes into Evan’s dresser drawers. He was pulling the clothes out of a laundry basket and Evan genuinely hadn’t done laundry in over two weeks, fucking hell, Connor was babying him, Connor had apparently washed Evan’s underwear, that was embarrassing, he was…

“Hey,” Connor said. “How are you feeling?”

_ Like this is my worst fuck up on record.  _

Evan sat up slowly, then shrugged his shoulders. “Hungover. Tired. Really fucking sorry.”

Connor nodded. “I uh. Look, I’m sorry, I accidentally turned your shirt pink.”

Evan blinked a few times. “What?”

“There was a red pair of boxers I didn’t see when I threw in a load of whites and pretty much everything else is fine but your white shirt is a pink shirt now, sorry.”

“You didn’t have to wash my clothes.”

“I know,” Connor said. “But… I kind of did. For me at least. I dunno. You’ve got doctors for roommates, it wasn’t like I could… doctor.”

“Right.”

Connor put the laundry basket on the floor and had a seat at the end of Evan’s bed, sucking in a deep breath, and Evan braced for impact, for more yelling, for Connor to say that he was done with him…

“You’ve got to call your therapist and make an appointment,” Connor said. 

That wasn’t… 

Evan wasn’t expecting that. 

“What?”

“Look, Evan… I want to help you. You’re having a hard time, and I really get that, I do, but. You’ve got to call your therapist and make an appointment because I think that will help more than anything I can do.”

Evan’s eyes dropped to his lap, fingers idly picking at a loose thread on the blanket. “I... “ He lost his voice. He felt like something was very slowly crushing him. It was like panic in slow motion. “What if she wants to have me committed or something?” He twisted his fingers in the loose thread. “In New York all they need for an emergency admission is a claim that the person has a mental illness which is likely to result in serious harm to self or others. They can hold you for up to  _ fifteen _ days, Connor, fifteen days,  just right off the bat, and then they can decide to keep you longer. And then they charge you for it and I… I’ve got shitty marketplace insurance until I can get on the firm’s health plan and I  _ can’t afford _ to be committed right now.”

Connor frowned at him. “I think your best bet to not end up in the psych ward is to call your therapist and make an appointment for as soon as possible.”

“But -”

“Evan. Trust me, okay? I know… I know how easy it is to think that once you’ve gotten started with therapy and meds and whatever that you don’t need to keep on top of it as much anymore. But it doesn’t just go away just because you’re finally addressing it now, okay? It can creep back in and then you’re in the same place you were when you started and…  I know what that looks like, because I’ve been there, so I know that’s what happened here. You can’t… you can’t let this stuff slide, alright?”

Evan took a shallow breath, then a few more, because Connor was fucking right and he didn’t want him to be right, he wanted to just be  _ fine.  _ “Okay.”

Connor let out a breath, like he’d been holding it, like he had been holding himself in tightly, waiting for an answer. 

“You’re… you’re right. I’ll do it. I’ll call and make an appointment.” 

“You don’t have to do it by yourself,” Connor said. “I’ll come get you from work and walk you there and back if you want.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Evan said softly. “I don’t expect you to… I made this mess and I’ve gotta deal with it.”

“But not by yourself,” Connor said. “Okay?”

He nodded, because what else could he do? He was in no position to deny what a mess he was. It was written all over his face. All over everything… only apparently not, because his room was nowhere near the disaster he had left it. “Did you clean up in here?” Evan asked Connor. 

Connor’s cheeks went pink. “I… I figured you’d be sort of embarrassed if Alex saw your room a mess on top of everything.”

“Thanks.” He thought “thanks” didn’t cover what he felt, the intense gratitude, but he couldn’t make himself say more. “I am. Really so sorry about last night. And today.” He glanced around hopelessly. “It’s still Saturday, right?”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “Do you want a minute to make that call? Or would you rather I stay here?”

He wanted Connor to stay, to save him from this pit sinking in his stomach, from the fact that he felt like he was teetering on an edge but… Connor had done so much, too much, to take care of him so he shook his head. Connor handed Evan’s phone over and he gingerly went through his contacts and called Marcia’s number. 

“Evan,” She greeted him, because she had his phone number in her contacts, probably. “I’m pleased to hear from you again. I wasn’t sure that I would.”

He was getting guilt tripped by a therapist. Great. “Uh, hi. Can we talk?”

“Of course.” She cleared her throat. “Is this an emergency?”

“Not… not anymore.”

“I see.” He could hear a pen click. “Do you have a moment to talk right now? We could do a short phone session?”   


Evan wanted to say no, he was busy, no he just wanted to schedule something for next week, no, really, he was fine…

But he had an IV in his arm and a monster of a headache and in February he had died because in February he had killed himself so he screwed up his courage and said, “Yeah, that… Yes. Can we do that?”

“Where do you want to start?”

“I sat the bar, in February? And things… were not great... And I. Tried to kill myself.”

* * *

 

Once Connor’s sure that Evan is actually fucking talking to his therapist, he quietly leaves the room. He heads into the living room to find Mattie on the couch, looking like she’s about to doze off. She starts when she notices Connor and offers him a weak smile. 

 

“How’s he doing?” 

 

“He’s awake,” Connor says, nodding a little. “He’s, uh… making an appointment.”

 

“To talk to his therapist?” Mattie confirms, and Connor nods, feeling a little shitty that now apparently he’s let on that Evan’s seeing a therapist to his roommates. “Good. That’s really good.”

 

“I’m gonna make him some soup,” Connor says after a moment. “For, you know, for after.”

 

“What kind?” Mattie asks. “I’d avoid anything too creamy.”

 

“I was thinking chicken noodle?” Connor has a vague memory of Evan ordering chicken noodle at a diner that then exploded. 

 

Mattie nods. “Good choice.”

 

“Did Alex get some sleep?” Connor asks, kind of awkwardly hovering.

 

Mattie nods. “Yeah. I actually found someone to cover her shift tonight, so… she’s going to sleep properly.” 

 

“And you’re not working tonight, right?” Mattie shakes her head. “Okay. Cool. Right.”

 

Connor feels like he ought to be pleased about this. Alex and Mattie are both going to be home for at least the next 24 hours. They’re both doctors. They’re both… way more equipped to deal with Evan being so fucking sick than Connor is. 

 

Realistically, he doesn’t need to be here. 

 

He doesn’t have anything else he can offer. Not really. He’s bought groceries and done laundry (badly) and made Evan call his therapist. He’s done what he needs to do.

 

He could go home and get some sleep. 

 

He could leave. 

 

Except he couldn’t. 

 

He really, really fucking couldn’t. 

 

“Evan’s lucky to have you,” Mattie says, like she’s somehow figured out what he’s thinking and is trying to reassure him, which is super weird for someone he’s only met once while not wearing any pants. 

 

“He… he deserves to have someone looking out for him,” Connor says after a moment of consideration. “He’s a good person. He deserves…”

 

Everything, is what he thinks. 

 

Evan deserves everything. 

 

He doesn’t know what else to say, so he kind of nods and then heads into the kitchen to heat up some soup. While he’s got the soup on the stove heating up, he unpacks the groceries he’d bought that are sitting on the counter into the shelf that’s labelled ‘Evan’ which is pretty much empty except for a mostly-empty jar of peanut butter. 

 

Connor’s kind of figured that Evan isn’t going to have the energy or time to cook, so it’s mostly stuff that’s ready to go. Lots of granola bars, a decent amount of microwave meals - stuff you could just take out of a packet, put in a bowl and then microwave. Nice and easy. Low effort, and actual food. 

 

This should probably keep him going for a while. Provided he actually remembers to eat. 

 

Honestly, Connor’s not great at it himself. He should probably eat more regularly, too. And eat less pizza. 

 

As Connor’s unpacking things, he thinks to himself that Evan’s not going to like it if Connor suddenly starts being like “don’t forget to eat!”, because Evan doesn’t like feeling like he’s lacking in any way. Which, okay, fair enough. There’s gotta be a way around it, though. 

 

Maybe if Connor brings Evan lunch at work and brings food for himself as well, Evan won’t be as weirded out by it. 

 

It’s worth a try, at least. 

 

Connor puts the soup in a mug, because he figures it might be easier, and makes some toast, and then heads back into Evan’s room, where he’s putting his phone on his bedside table. He’s got a little more color than he had this morning, but he’s still pale. He smiles at Connor wearily, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, then looks embarrassed when he sees the soup and toast in Connor’s hands. 

 

“You should at least try to eat something,” Connor says matter-of-factly. “Mattie said it was okay.”

 

Evan blinks. “Mattie’s home?”

 

“Yeah,” Connor confirms, handing Evan the mug. Evan kind of looks at it for a moment, then back up at Connor. 

 

“I am so, so, so sorry,” he says quietly. 

 

“I know,” Connor says gently. “I’m sorry you’re not doing so great.”

 

Evan takes in a shaky breath. “I have an appointment,” he says, nodding a little. “With Marcia. Tuesday at 2 o’clock. I’ve, uh, I’ve emailed my boss so he knows, and… yeah.”

 

“I’ll come with you,” Connor offers, and Evan shakes his head. 

 

“You don’t have to do that.”

 

“I want to,” Connor insists. “I can take a long lunch break, it’s fine. I just…”

 

“Want to make sure I actually go?” Evan offers, and his voice just radiates fatigue. 

 

“Want to make sure you’re not alone.” 

 

Evan blinks a few times. Wipes his eyes with the hand that’s not holding the mug. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

Connor puts the plate with the toast on the bedside table, then goes to Evan’s desk and picks up his laptop. “Want to watch something on Netflix?” he suggests. 

 

Evan stares at him. “You’re staying?”

 

Connor nods. “Yeah. Of course.” It’s not even a fucking question. He gives Evan his best approximation of a grin. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

 

Evan does actually smile at that, and although it’s slightly sad and not quite at its full power, it’s good to see. With that, Connor sits on the other side of Evan’s bed, opens up Evan’s laptop and navigates to Netflix. He scrolls through the list idly and then settles on Bob Ross, because it’s calm and he knows Evan likes it. 

 

They watch episode after episode, and Evan drinks maybe half a mug of soup and eats a piece of toast and doesn’t throw any of it up. Connor doesn’t even notice it’s started to get dark until the light turns on and Mattie and Alex come into the room. They’ve both changed out of their scrubs and into sweats and t-shirts, and Alex has her bag. 

 

“Just want to check Evan’s vitals,” Alex says, and she sits down and takes his temperature and blood pressure and pulse and looks a lot happier with them than she had this morning. “Okay, that’s… that’s a lot better.” She turns to Mattie. “We can probably take the IV out now, what do you think?”

 

“I still can’t believe you stole the IV kit,” Mattie says, and her voice is fond and she sounds delighted. 

 

“What, are you going to rat me out?” Alex says, her tone teasing, almost flirtatious. 

 

“I wouldn’t dare,” Mattie replies with a grin. “But yeah, I think we can take it out.” She looks at Evan. “You just have to make sure you’re drinking plenty of water. I’m talking at least tripling your water intake, dude. Dehydration is no joke.”

 

“Noted,” says Evan, and he looks really fucking tired. 

 

Alex takes out the IV and Mattie takes the coat rack back into the living room and returns with a large bottle of water. “Plenty of water,” she instructs. “I’m serious.”

 

“Thank you,” says Evan, and he sounds close to tears. “I’m so sorry, I-”

 

“You’re welcome,” Alex interrupts him. “Get some sleep.”

 

With that, Alex and Mattie head out. Connor closes the laptop and turns to Evan. 

 

“I think your roommates are boning,” he says. 

 

Evan just kind of nods. “Okay.”

 

“You’re about to fall asleep, aren’t you?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Connor can’t really stop himself, he takes Evan’s hand and squeezes it gently. “Do you want me to stay?” he offers gently. “I can sleep on the couch.”

 

“I should take the couch,” Evan says, but he’s yawning, and Connor’s willing to bet if he tried to stand up right now he’d just pass out. 

 

“Not a chance,” Connor says with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll leave the door open, okay? And if you need me, just yell.”

 

Evan’s already got his eyes closed. “Mmmm.”

 

Connor stands up and carefully heads out of the room. When he gets into the living room, Mattie’s there, picking up her bag. She looks a little surprised to see Connor. 

 

“I’m just going to crash on the couch,” he says, a little awkwardly. 

 

“Oh!” she says, like she’s surprised. “I’ll get you a blanket.”

 

She’s back moments later with a pillow and a comforter and hands them to him with a flourish. “I’m guessing you didn’t sleep super well last night, either.”

 

“No,” Connor admits. Now that Evan’s actually been seen by medical professionals, he’s starting to feel the fatigue set in properly. “He scared the shit out of me.”

 

Mattie looks sad. “Yeah. Me and Alex, too.” She offers him a smile. “Help yourself to anything you need, Connor. And if I don’t see you tomorrow, thank you.”

 

Mattie heads out and Connor settles himself on the couch. It’s a three seater, so while his legs do hang off the edge, it’s not horribly uncomfortable, and it’s not long before he falls asleep.

* * *

 

Evan woke up and felt disgusting. His head hurt, the light was too bright, and he was clammy and sweaty. Also he was wearing Connor’s clothes still which meant the shirt was just slightly too tight across the chest, the pants a little too long. 

He really needed a shower. He knew he probably stunk of sweat and alcohol and vomit. Also he had to pee, like, really badly. 

He saw that the garbage can in his room had been emptied placed next to his bed, and Evan figured, reasonably, that it was probably in case he needed to throw up again. 

Fuck, he had puked so much yesterday. That was super disgusting. He was shocked, honestly shocked, that Alex and Mattie weren’t trying to serve him with an eviction notice like immediately. He would deserve it.

He felt around in his bed for his phone and saw it was really early still, like before seven on a Sunday early, but he could not stay there in bed for another minute. He slowly got to his feet, heading for his dresser to pull out clean sweats, a t-shirt, and underwear to change into, then made his way toward the bathroom. 

Connor was sleeping on the sofa. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open, and it was nice to see him not frowning for once, not having his face screwed up with concern. Evan hated that he had worried him, worried anybody. 

He snagged a clean towel from the linen closet and then headed into the bathroom, where he took his time peeing before carefully, very carefully turning on the water in the shower and stepping inside. Evan still wasn’t super steady on his feet, and honestly, Alex would probably yell at him for showering without someone around to catch him if he slipped or something but he wasn’t going to let anyone fucking help him shower, he wasn’t an invalid, he was just an idiot. 

He really was an idiot. He… He shouldn’t have let things get this bad. He knew how bad they were getting and just kept ignoring it, like it might go away, even though that hadn’t ever worked for him in the past. Evan just really wanted it to work this time. He was exhausted by the idea of having to attend his next appointment with Marcia, exhausted having told her the truth (or as close as he could get without an involuntary psych hold) about trying to kill himself in February, exhausted that she said that they’d try him on a different antidepressant and maybe give him something for his anxiety too. He was exhausted because yesterday was the most sleep he had gotten since May. 

Evan washed his hair and body and face carefully and thoroughly, until he felt less like the floor of a bar after closing time and more like a person. He rinsed off and stepped out of the shower gingerly, gripping the wall for support, and toweled off. He brushed his teeth three times, trying to get rid of the sour taste that had taken up residency in his mouth. He pulled on his clean clothes, heading back to his bedroom and depositing the borrowed pajamas from Connor in his laundry hamper, thinking he needed to wash them before he returned them. 

Evan headed to the kitchen next where he made himself slowly, very slowly, drink three large glasses of water. He stared at his labeled shelf in the kitchen, surprised to see that it was suddenly full of boxes of granola bars and prepackaged food and part of him was annoyed because those things all had so much wasteful packaging, but he was also extremely grateful because… 

Somebody had shopped for him. Somebody was making sure he had food in the house, something more substantial than cigarettes or coffee and it felt weird and embarrassing and shameful but also a lot like relief. Something he didn’t need to try to find time for next week. 

“You’re up,” Connor said, startling Evan as he walked into the kitchen. 

“Shit, I didn’t wake you right?” 

Connor smiled. “It’s fine, I can’t usually sleep in weird places that well anyway.” He seemed to be sizing Evan up, like he was trying to assess Evan’s physical wellbeing with a look. “How are you feeling? You look less… gray.”

“Thanks,” Evan said, almost smiling. “I guess better? I feel better than yesterday, at least.”

“Not hard to, I’d imagine.”

Evan almost smiled. Then he stopped because this was serious and Connor was probably really angry with him, he probably only stayed because he pitied Evan, thought he was pathetic and sad and didn’t have anyone… 

Maybe that was just his stupid brain talking. 

He didn’t know.    


Connor stayed and that. Meant a lot. Gave Evan this sort of warm heavy feeling in his chest that he didn’t know what to do with. “Thanks uh… Thank you for looking out for me. I mean. I’m really -”

“Evan please stop apologizing,” Connor said sort of wearily. “You’d do it for me, yeah? I just. I wanted to help.”

Evan nodded but nodding hurt his head so he stopped. 

“You should go back to sleep,” Connor said, and Evan knew that was probably right, that sleep was probably in order, but he didn’t want… He desperately didn’t want Connor to leave. He knew if he went and slept that he would wake up and Connor would have cleared off, would have packed the rest of his things up, gone home. And he was allowed to go, he deserved to have some peace after Evan had ruined his weekend. But he didn’t want him to go because Evan still felt like he was barely there, barely here, barely able to drag himself back to bed, to sleep. 

“Yeah.” He tried to smile at Connor. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to.”

“Yeah,” Connor said softly. “Want to watch some more Bob Ross?”

Evan could have cried or hugged him, but instead he smiled. “Yeah. That would be great.”

So Evan and Connor retreated to Evan’s room, and Connor opened up a laptop and they watched a few episodes of  _ The Joy of Painting.  _ After a while, Connor dropped off to sleep and Evan didn’t wake him because he didn’t want to, because Connor was probably exhausted and deserved to sleep. 

Evan eventually turned Netflix off, closing the laptop and pulling out of his phone. He had twelve emails from work. Fuck, he was behind. Evan read through the emails, frowning a bit, and got to work responding to them, confirming his attendance at a meeting on Monday morning, answering a client’s question about a court date, and looking up the answer to a question Mariah had sent him yesterday morning about the opposing counsel she was facing the next week. 

After those three emails, he did pull his laptop into his lap and start to respond back to the more involved ones with more detail than he was really ready to do from his phone, sending along a large file to Charles about an environmental impact report of a small public park-

“Dude, are you serious?” 

Evan looked up to see Alex standing in the doorway, arms cross. “What?”

“That had better not be work,” She said, her eyes narrowed. “If you’re not mindlessly surfing facebook I’m gonna be pissed.”

“It was just an email,” Evan said quietly. 

“Yeah, uh-huh, that’s a slippery slope,” Alex said. “You need to evaluate your work-life balance.”

“Like you can talk.” Evan snorted. “You literally put an IV in my arm at home yesterday.”

“That’s different,” She said, rolling her eyes. She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I like Connor. By the way.”

Evan glanced at him nervously, like somehow he might have woken up and heard this conversation, but he was still breathing deeply, eyes closed. “Yeah. He’s great.”

“I feel bad for snapping at him yesterday,” She went on, frowning. “I was just freaked out.” 

“I’m sure he’ll get over it,” Evan said. “But an apology couldn’t hurt.”

“Does he like fruit? Maybe I’ll send a fruit basket.”

A sudden, strange image of Andi handing Connor a pineapple while Evan was drunkenly stumbling around Connor’s bedroom floated to the top of Evan’s mind and he was filled with equal parts embarrassment and amusement. 

“Thanks again, Alex,” He said instead. 

“Yeah. Make sure you keep drinking water,” She said sternly. “And maybe have some solid food if you’re up to it later.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“And get off your damn email.”

Evan shook his head. Alex shut the door, and the sound of it closing appeared to have woken Connor. He blinked a few times, then smiled at Evan. “How are you feeling?”

“Less gross,” he said honestly. 

“How long was I out for?”

“Like an hour. I figured you needed the sleep.”

Connor nodded. 

“You don’t have to stick around,” Evan went on awkwardly. “I really appreciate you staying here like all weekend and feeding me and doing my laundry and stuff, but you can totally go home if you want. I’m okay. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh,” Connor said. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve got to be exhausted and I’m just going to hang around in my pajamas all day again and that’s probably really boring, right, so you can leave.”

“Yeah, I mean. Okay,” Connor said, getting up. “Do you want me to come by and check on you tomorrow during the day? I can swing by on my lunch.”

“Well, no, I’ll be at work,” Evan said. 

Connor frowned. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Evan.”

He took a deep breath to steady himself, because he figured Connor would want to fight him on this. “I’ve been there less than a month. I can’t call in sick, it’ll look bad, and I don’t even have sick time yet.” He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “Besides, it’s bad enough that I’m leaving in the middle of the day on Tuesday, so I definitely have to be there tomorrow.”

“You don’t have sick time?” Connor sounded worried. 

“No, I mean, I haven’t been there long enough,” He said shrugging. “And honestly, like, most law firms don’t exactly encourage time off? Look, I’m going to work tomorrow, but I. I learned my lesson, okay, I overdid it and I will only work a reasonable number of hours tomorrow. I swear.”

“Define reasonable,” Connor said, frowning. 

“Ten?” Evan suggested and Connor glowered at him. “Or, uh. Or eight?”

“Fine, but you’re taking a lunch break.”

“Okay,” Evan said, nodding. “I can live with that.”

Connor started to gather up his things, collecting a few books that Evan hadn’t known he had brought over. “Can I…” Connor started, putting his bag down. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Oh. Here it was. This was it. Evan took a breath, trying to prepare himself, but the panic was rising in him, this was the end, this was -

“The drinking alone thing.”

Evan tried to take a breath. 

“I know things can be tough with your job and… stuff. But. Please just. Will you just… will you call me? If you want to have a drink or twelve to take the edge off? I don’t care, it could be four in the morning, just. Call me, okay?”

His stomach dropped a little, and he was just… so fucking ashamed of himself for having been so fucking stupid. Evan nodded. “Okay.”

“I just… honestly I am so glad you made it to my place on Friday, but I don’t know how you managed it.”

“Me either,” Evan confessed. “I’ll call you, okay? I’ll call you.”

“Good.” Connor squeezed Evan’s hand. “That’s good.”

He left a little while later, and Evan went back to sleep for a few hours. He got back up and made a microwave meal for dinner. He only managed to eat half of it, but it was something. A start.

* * *

On Monday morning, Evan went back to work.

And on Monday afternoon, Connor showed up to Evan’s office with lunch. Including a container of pineapple chunks. “Andi sent them,” Connor explained. 

“Thanks.”

Evan had never been so happy to see someone. Never. 

Well maybe when he saw Connor in Andre’s liquor store, that last loop, before it all turned out to be bad news.

“Thank you,” Evan repeated. “Seriously. You didn’t have to…”

Connor acted like he couldn’t hear Evan. “This pineapple is really good, you should  have some.” 

Evan took a piece from the container Connor offered. As he was chewing it, his coworker Mariah poked her head in. “Hey,” She said, smiling, her eyes catching briefly on Connor. “Thanks for your help this weekend. I uh. Brought you coffee? You looked like you could use it.”

“Oh. Uh. Thanks,” Evan said, surprised. 

“It’s got almond milk in it? God, I sound creepy for knowing that! You just ordered in front of me last week.”

Evan smiled, genuinely. “No, it’s not creepy! Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “This is my friend Connor, by the way.”

“Hi,” Mariah said, and she was smiling coyly. 

“Hi,” Connor said, oblivious. “Want some pineapple?”

Monday wasn’t so bad.

* * *

 

Connor picked Evan up and walked him to therapy on Tuesday, true to his word. Evan was a nervous wreck the whole walk there, and the session was… kind of brutal, but it helped, he thought, to get some of this stuff off of his chest, own up to the pain he was in. 

And Connor was there to walk him back to work after the session, to come along to pick up his new prescription that night after they both got off. 

It wasn’t that bad either. 


	5. July (Five Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, yeah,” Connor replies, more than a little amused, “but… am I the lobster here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for our thrice weekly song-and-dance: Read the tags! Read those tags! Look at the tags and then read them! Make good choices and read those tags!

**July (Five Months After)**

Connor’s therapist Praveed is wearing bright pink cargo shorts and a shirt covered in flamingos and is grinning as he ushers Connor into his office. “Connor, how’s it going?” he says as they both sit down. “Tell me about your week, man.”

 

Praveed is very different to any therapist Connor’s seen in the past. He’s still getting used to it, but in general he thinks his opinion of Praveed is mostly positive. 

 

Even if he thinks his pink cargo pants are completely insane. 

 

“Been busy,” Connor says, getting comfortable. “I’m having dinner with my boss and her wife on Friday. We’re going to properly talk about me buying the bookstore, so I’m… kind of nervous.”

 

Praveed nods. “It’s a big thing, dude. Wanna tell me a bit more about what’s making you nervous?”

 

“Well, they might just flat out tell me no,” Connor says bluntly. “Though I guess it would be weird to invite me around for dinner just so they can say that.”

 

Praveed looks thoughtful. “We can’t predict the future,” he says, “but we can take cues from the past, you know? Do you think that your boss is the kind of person to beat around the bush?”

 

“Not at all,” Connor admits. “That’s a good point.”

 

Praveed nods. “So this whole bookstore thing. Big step for you. It’s gonna be a big change, yeah? Is there anything else that’s making you nervous?”

 

“I might suck at it,” Connor confesses. “I might, like, run the whole business to the ground. And it means a lot to a lot of people and that’s… kind of fucking terrifying, you know?”

 

“I get that,” says Praveed, nodding again. “It makes sense it’s something you’d be nervous about.” He leans in a little. “Let’s break it down. You’ve been managing the place for how long now?”

 

“Since March.”

 

“Cool.” Praveed looks thoughtful, then looks back at his notes. “And last time we talked, you said that if they okayed you buying the store, you wanted to take it slow. Is that still the plan?”

 

“Yeah,” Connor says. “I’m not in a hurry, so I figured I could take my time, learn everything I can from Gladys, get to know all the people she works with to keep the place running - suppliers and shit like that. So that when it’s officially mine, it’s not this quick, abrupt change.”

 

“So it’s kind of like putting a lobster in a pot of cold water and gradually increasing the heat,” Praveed suggests. 

 

“Well, yeah,” Connor replies, more than a little amused, “but… am I the lobster here?”

 

Praveed grins. “You tell me.”

 

“That’s weird, man.”

 

“You want to do it gradually and learn all you can,” Praveed summarizes. “That sounds really sensible. I can tell you’ve put a lot of thought into this.” He raises an eyebrow. “I know that saying you have nothing to be nervous about is counter-productive. But maybe you can think about that nervousness as a sign.”

 

“A sign of what?”

 

Praveed grins. “You tell me. What do you think being nervous means, aside from not thinking you can do it?”

 

Connor rolls his eyes, but thinks about it. “I think it means that I want to succeed,” he says after a moment. “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be nervous.”

 

Praveed nods. “Yeah, dude. I think that makes a lot of sense.”

 

They talk about the store for a little longer, then Praveed looks at his notes again. “Okay,” he says, his voice matter-of-fact. “So let’s check in about your friend Evan. The last couple of times we’ve talked, he hasn’t been doing so well and you’ve been supporting him, which is awesome of you, but we’ve talked about making sure you’re taking care of yourself. The whole ‘don’t help someone else with their oxygen mask until yours is on securely’ thing. How are you doing?”

 

Connor bites his lip. “I’m okay,” he says, and he thinks he’s being honest, mostly. “It’s been hard, seeing him struggling. He’s doing better, but I still worry a lot, you know? Especially after what happened last month… I worry that if things got bad again, that maybe he’d be too embarrassed to call me, or ask for help, and then he’d…” He trails off, not trusting himself to continue. 

 

Praveed looks sympathetic. “I get it, dude. It’s rough.” He nods. “Okay. So let’s break it down. What are the things that you can control, and what are the things you can’t? If we get a handle on the different things and where they fit, then hopefully we can figure out some of this whole worry knot. Work it out into something manageable.”

 

They talk through some things for a while, and Connor has to admit that it actually helps, being able to figure it all out. At the end of the day, Connor can only do what he can to help his friend, even though he desperately wishes he could just make it all go away, and he needs to trust that Evan’s got his safety plan in place and is doing everything he can to keep himself safe. 

 

“What happened last month scared the shit out of me,” Connor says, knowing his voice is shaking, “but it could have been so much worse, you know? And… he reached out. He asked for help, and for Evan, that’s huge.”

 

He’s had a few sessions with Praveed since that terrifying night in June with Evan and it’s made things easier to deal with. Connor had made an appointment to see Praveed the day after he’d walked Evan to and from his own therapist appointment because he’d had a hard time sleeping in the aftermath, had a hard time letting go of that terrifying ‘what if?’ that kept floating around his head. 

 

What if Evan hadn’t made it to Connor’s apartment? What if Evan had stayed in his apartment and kept drinking and his roommates hadn’t found him until he’d really hurt himself? 

 

What if Evan had gone to the roof of his apartment building instead?

 

There’s a part of Connor that wonders if he and Evan are still weirdly connected. That if Evan died, he’d suddenly find himself staring at his own reflection on his 27th birthday, once again. Or that he’d just blink out of existence, or die alongside Evan. 

 

But another, more insistent part of Connor, the part that believes that whatever weird glitch in the universe they went through in February is well and truly over, is afraid that if Evan died, Connor would just keep on living. 

 

Keep on living with a huge, gaping hole in his heart that might never heal. 

 

Talking things through with Praveed helps. There are obviously things he can’t tell him, but the worry, the fear, the desperate need to keep his friend safe - that he can talk about. 

 

Praveed’s encouraging and patient and always seems like he actually wants to be talking to Connor, which he has to admit is still novel to him. And yeah, he’s a little weird, and those shorts are terrifying, but he’s a good dude, and Connor likes that he’s… warm. 

 

Probably a weird thing to say about your therapist, but whatever. 

 

“I want to circle back to the whole safety plan thing,” Praveed says after a while. “So Evan’s got his, and that’s really good, and you’re on it as someone he can call. I know things have been pretty good for you on that front recently, but I think it’s worth you sitting down and writing out your own safety plan. Something similar, so you’ve got it just in case.”

 

Connor considers. “That makes sense, yeah.” 

 

“You can do most of it by yourself and we can talk about it next time we see each other,” Praveed says. “But I think it’s worth us pinning down someone who you could call straight off if things got bad for you.”

 

Connor’s immediate thought is Evan. Evan, who is the only person who knows what happened on his birthday, who understands something that he can’t talk to anyone else about, who was right there with him when the impossible happened. 

 

But Evan’s struggling to put his own oxygen mask on at the moment. He shouldn’t be burdened with Connor’s. 

 

“Zoe,” he says after a moment. “My sister.”

 

Praveed nods. “And you think you could call her? I know you and your sister haven’t been close in the past, but that you’re working on it.”

 

“I could,” Connor says, and he actually believes it. 

 

A few days later, Connor and Zoe meet up for lunch. They sit in the sunshine and eat sushi and it’s warm and nice and Connor doesn’t want to think about anything dark right now. 

 

But he thinks he owes his sister a head’s up. 

 

“So I saw Praveed a few days ago,” he says, as casually as he can, pouring a little soy sauce into the dish thing. “And we talked about putting together, like, a safety plan?”

 

Zoe nods, frowning a little. “Is everything okay?”

 

“It’s just a precaution,” Connor says with a shrug. “Anyway, I’ve got your name on my plan as someone I can call if things are… not so good. Is that okay?”

 

“Of course,” says Zoe immediately. She puts down her chopsticks. “Is this seriously just a precaution or did something happen? You seemed… kind of down when I saw you a few weeks back.”

 

He takes a moment to consider what he should say. “Evan’s having a hard time,” he says finally. “At the end of June, he managed to give himself alcohol poisoning and it was… scary. But he had a safety plan in place and he came to my apartment and that was good, it was good that he did that, even though it was… scary.”

 

Zoe frowns even more. She looks at Connor, bites her lip, then takes a steadying breath. “Okay,” she says finally. “Connor, I know you want to support him and be there for him, but that’s… that’s a lot. This is a lot, especially for someone with their own struggles. First there was what happened in February, and now this? I’m just… I worry that this isn’t good for you.”

 

Connor should have seen this coming. “I’m not abandoning him, Zo.”

 

“I’m not saying that.”

 

“Then what are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying that spending time with someone who’s struggling, with your history, might not be good for you,” Zoe says firmly. 

 

Connor can feel anger boiling up inside him. Zoe doesn’t  _ get _ it, she doesn’t get that Connor can’t just… throw Evan out, replace him with someone else. Zoe’s always had friends, had people she can trust, she can rely on, and Connor’s never had that, and now that he’s got someone he cares about and understands and who understands him, he’s not letting that go, he can’t let that go, he can’t let Evan go. 

 

“I made him see his therapist,” Connor says, trying to keep calm. “And he did. And they’re trying a new medication, and he’s seeing her regularly and he’s… he’s doing better. And I’m seeing Praveed more often and I’ve talked to him about it all and I…” He takes in a deep breath, hoping it’ll help. “I’m not… I’m not single-handedly trying to save him, Zo. I’m… I’m doing all the things I’m supposed to do. His roommates know he’s struggling, so they’re looking out for him, and I’m talking it all through with my therapist and I’m putting on my oxygen mask before I help anyone else, okay? I’m… I’m doing what I’m supposed to do, I’m trying really hard to be smart and safe about this and look after myself and it really sucks that you don’t see that.”

 

“I do see that,” Zoe says, still frowning. “I honestly do. I just-”

 

“You know that it’s hard for me to trust people,” Connor interrupts. “That I don’t… I don’t make friends easily. I know Evan’s struggling and that it might be… triggering for me or whatever, and yeah, it’s scary, seeing him struggle and it does take a toll but… it’s not that I don’t care, it’s not that I’m just being stubborn about this, it’s… the good outweighs the bad. Completely. It really, really does.”

 

Zoe bites her lip. “I know you’re sleeping with him.”

 

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

 

“It might cloud your judgment.”

 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Connor says flatly. “I’m not… blinded by love or whatever. This isn’t a romantic thing, this is… we’re friends, and it’s important to me.”

 

“Right,” says Zoe, and her face softens a little. “Okay. Well. Seeing your therapist more regularly is good, and Evan seeing his therapist and changing up his medication is also good, and… I can see that you’re trying to be safe, I honestly can. And I… I’m glad that I’m on your safety plan. I’m glad that you feel like you can call me if you need me, and I don’t want to jeopardize that, so… if you’re sure, then I’m going to trust you on this.”

 

“I thought you liked Evan,” Connor says, a little stubbornly.

 

“I do,” Zoe says simply. “I do, and I’m glad you have a friend you feel you can trust. But I’m always going to want you safe first.” She shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “It’s a sibling thing, I guess.”

 

“Right,” says Connor. 

 

They’re quiet for a moment. 

 

“This might be one of the first arguments we’ve had without someone screaming,” Zoe says, her voice deliberately casual. 

 

She’s got a point. “Yeah.” 

 

Zoe smiles a little. “I prefer it this way.”

 

“Me too.”

 

* * *

Evan yawned. It was the fifth time in as many minutes. He was struggling to keep his eyes open. 

“Are we boring you, Hansen?” His boss Jonathan asked from the head of the conference table. 

“No sir,” Evan said, fighting to suppress another yawn. “I apologize.”

His boss frowned, but then continued droning on about quarterly whatevers and blah blah blah wins versus losses and Evan wanted to go home. 

Fuck. 

The new meds Marcia had him trying out were making him groggy and exhausted and he really just wanted to take a nap. But he was in the middle of a meeting at work and Evan needed to focus. But he couldn’t focus. It was late in the afternoon and Evan just wanted to close his eyes. 

He yawned again. Fuck. 

He was doing two sessions a week for the time being. Marcia said he was making good progress, but she didn’t want to reduce them right now. “It’s a lot of hard work, I know. And I want to make sure you have structure to help you through it. So I think for the time being, we should keep meeting twice a week.”

Evan agreed. Because he didn’t have a choice. Because Marcia was right, if he stopped coming in twice a week he would backslide, he would, he knew he would. Evan was an expert at putting on a brave face. He’d be dead in weeks if he let himself off the hook. 

That was a fact. 

Evan knew it was a fact. He was was dangling off a cliff and he had a strong grip but the temptation to just ease up, let go just a little was still there, still very real…

It was exhausting. Evan was exhausted. 

Connor had been great. Evan didn’t know where he would be without Connor. He was just… so patient. So patient and way kinder than Evan deserved. He’d started to just show up with food at Evan’s office sometimes, and he came over in the evenings after work or after Evan had therapy a lot and they’d mostly just watch television. They weren’t sleeping together anymore, but Evan figured that was probably done because he was such a mess. But it was okay because he was still Evan’s friend and it wasn’t that weird, really. 

Connor was just. Amazing. Evan owed him so much. 

He never gave Evan hell about the stuff that happened in June, he never made him feel guilty and a few nights ago Evan noticed that Connor had pinned Evan’s safety plan by the lightswitch and he’d left a note saying Evan could always call him. 

Evan didn’t know what to say. He’d never really had something like that before.

He owed Connor so much. 

The meeting ended about ten minutes later, and Evan rushed out of the conference room. Mariah was at his side not long after, smiling at him. “That was brutal.”

“Yeah,” Evan said. 

“Coffee break?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Oh don’t worry about it,” Mariah said dismissively. “Jonathan’s just a douchebag.”

Evan nodded but really, it was on him. He was sleepy at work and fucking this up. Mariah nudged his shoulder, smiling. “Dude. Don’t stress. Asher fell asleep in an arbitration once.”

Evan smiled slightly. “How does Asher still have a fucking job?”

“His daddy and Jonathan are golf buddies,” Mariah said. “Or at least that’s my running theory.”

They got in line at the cafe nearby, and Evan yawned again. “Fuck.”

“Boy toy keeping you up late?” Mariah said. 

“No, I wish,” Evan said, shaking his head. “Just this…” He closed his mouth. “Just tired.”

They placed their orders and walked to the end of the bar to wait for their iced coffees. Mariah started to complain about how she was pretty sure her roommate was stealing her underwear and that she needed to move out and then something caught Evan’s eye. “Zoe?”

Zoe Murphy was standing there, in the coffee line, wearing a navy blazer and sensible flats with her hair in a braid, and she looked a bit gobsmacked. “Evan?” 

“Hey Zoe,” Evan said, trying to smile at her but she looked a bit spooked and Evan’s heart sank. “How are you?”

“Good,” She said tightly. “And you?” It seemed loaded. 

“Fine,” Evan said evenly.

Connor had told her. 

Fuck. 

“What are you doing here?” Zoe asked. Her eyes were so big, big and scared and Connor had looked like that before, it was the same expression and Evan tended to cause it and he hated it. 

“My office is like a block away,” Evan said, his mouth dry. Mariah nudged Evan and Evan blinked a few times. “Sorry. This is my coworker Mariah. Mariah, this is Zoe. She’s Connor’s sister.”

“Connor’s your lunch buddy with the long hair right?” She smiled. “Nice to meet you,” Mariah said, extending a hand and Evan could see her cheeks were turning a bit pink. Connor was right. Every queer girl in the tristate area wanted to get with Zoe. 

“I didn’t realize your building was so close by,” Zoe said, a little awkwardly. 

“Yeah,” Evan said. “I take it yours is too?”

“Yeah, I’m across the block,” Zoe said, pointing. 

“You guys could do lunch sometimes,” Mariah said. 

“Yeah,” Evan said vaguely because lunch with Zoe was not what he was thinking about right now, what he was thinking about was what the fuck Connor might have said to Zoe about Evan because she was looking at Evan like he was dangerous, like he might explode on the spot and take out the whole coffee shop. 

“Large iced coffee with almond milk,” The barista said, and Evan blinked because, right. Right. 

“It was nice seeing you Zoe, but we should get back,” Evan said quietly and grabbed his coffee and Zoe nodded and got in line and Mariah’s coffee appeared at the end of the bar and they waved off Zoe and walked back to the office. 

“She seems nice. She single?”

“You seem to have a real thing for the Murphys,” Evan said. 

“What can I say? I like pretty people. They’re a pretty family.”

Evan went back to his office and tried to focus on work but all he could picture was that shocked, worried look on Zoe’s face and the fact that she clearly knew what was going on with him and fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

He texted Connor near the end of the workday.  _ “Do you want to get a drink or something?” _

The idea of actually drinking still sort of turned Evan’s stomach, but he figured he ought to talk to Connor about this before it became a  _ thing _ . 

_ “I’m off at 8:00. Tipsy’s?” _

_ “Sounds great.” _

Evan got to the bar at 7:45 and ordered a selzer for himself and a whiskey for Connor and waited in a booth, in the booth he and Connor had sat in the first time they met up here. He waited. And ripped his cocktail napkin into smaller and smaller pieces and tried not to think about how he was probably about to ruin this… friendship or whatever it was. But Connor had just gotten Zoe back in his life and Evan was wrecking it. 

He ripped up the pieces of his ripped up napkin.

He was ruining it. 

Connor arrived at Tipsy McStaggers, and he was smiling. “Hey!” He said, and slid into the booth across from Evan. “How was your day?”

Evan tried to smiled but he didn’t manage it. 

“Fuck is everything okay? Evan, did something -”

“I ran into Zoe today,” Evan said softly, fingers tripping over the piece of napkin he was shredding, because his hands were shaking. 

“Oh.” Connor stopped smiling. “How was that?”

Evan shrugged. “Did you know her office isn’t far from mine? We go to the same coffee shop. I guess. I ran into her there.”

“Okay…”

“Did you…” Evan looked down at his hands. “Did you tell her? About what happened last month, did you tell her?”

Connor opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again. 

“It’s okay if you did,” Evan pressed on, his voice stronger than he expected. “It’s okay if you told her because you can tell her stuff. I want you to tell her stuff. You two, you just started to talk again and I’m glad, I’m so happy because she’s your sister and you-you should tell her stuff that happens in your life. I want you to tell her things.”

“Did she say something to you?” Connor asked, his face pale. 

“No. She didn’t have to,” Evan tried to explain. “I could just tell, she looked… worried. Scared. And I.” He had to stop because his voice died a little. “Connor. Zoe’s important to you. And I… if I’m fucking that up for you, if it’s too much for you, then I’ll… I’ll be fine, okay? I know I fucked up last month and I r-really appreciate everything you’ve done for me but I. I’m doing better now, I’m gonna be a lot better and I can’t be the reason you and Zoe don’t, don’t uh -”

“Evan stop.”

“I just, I can’t, I can’t be the reason-”

“Hey.” Connor had reached across the table, and he took hold of Evan’s hands, gripping tight. “Evan. You’re not fucking up anything with me and Zoe. We had a disagreement but it’s fine.”

“She’s worried about you,” Evan said and his voice was shaking. “And it’s me, right? It’s me. It’s because of me and my-my stupid garbage and you sh-sh-shouldn’t even have to worry about me, I mean you don’t owe me anything.”

“You saved my life,” Connor said simply. “And even if you didn’t,  _ Evan _ , come on, you’re my friend. I’m not going to stop talking to you because Zoe’s a little worried.”

“But she’s… she’s right to worry, sh-she’s right to worry about you because she’s your family and you have stuff too and I’m-I’m bringing it all back up for you and I’m so sorry.” Evan stopped. His hands shook. He ran one over his face and wiped his watery eyes. “I’m fucking this up.”

“Look at me.”

Evan couldn’t. Connor grabbed Evan’s hands again, squeezed them tighter. 

“Evan, please look at me.”

He did it, without wanting to or meaning to, he looked up. Connor’s eyes were wide and worried and scared and Evan had done that. He’d hurt Connor and wanted so badly to take it back, take it all back. “I’m sorry… I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, okay? You’ve been working really hard to get better and you don’t have to apologize that you’re not okay yet. I want to help you. Let me help you. Don’t push me away.”

Evan nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s kinda… my thing I guess.”

“It’s okay,” Connor said and his thumb was tracing circles on Evan’s hand. “It’s okay. We’ll get through this okay? And Zoe’s just. She worries, like, professionally. Just don’t… don’t push me away. Please? I need to make sure you’re okay and I-I need you to let me.”

“Okay.”

Evan took a shaky breath. 

And he heard Connor exhale a little shakily too. 

“We’ve gotta stop… doing this shit here. They won’t let us come back.”

Connor smiled and laughed at him. He squeezed Evan’s hands again and then let go. “Yeah, seriously.”

Evan wiped his face again and watched as Connor downed his whiskey in one go. They sat there for a while. Just sat there while Evan caught his breath and just let the fact that Connor was staying wash over him. Connor stayed and he kept staying and Evan couldn’t express what that meant to him. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Connor said. “We can go to your place. Have you eaten?”

“I haven’t,” Evan said. “I mean, I had lunch. But nothing since then, just coffee. A lot of coffee.”

“Meds are still making you tired?”

Evan nodded. “Yeah.”

“Sucks.”

Connor walked him home, and halfway to Evan’s place Connor looped an arm around Evan’s shoulders and Evan let him because he could tell Connor maybe needed to make sure he had a good hold on him. And maybe it was okay to let someone else hold onto him sometimes. Connor ordered them Thai food and Evan changed into his pajamas and Connor stayed. He just… he stayed. He switched on an episode of Friends and they ate curry and Connor said something about having dinner with Gladys and Martha on Friday and Evan smiled. 

“That’s good, right? That’s good?”

“I think so yeah.” He chewed his food carefully and swallowed. “I really hope this works out.”

“It will. You deserve it.” 

Connor deserved everything. 

“Thank you,” Evan said after Ross yelled “Pivot” again. “Thank you for… uh. Not letting me totally spiral and -”

Connor nudged him. “Don’t mention it.”

“It’s…” Evan started but his voice failed him. He didn’t know how to say what he needed to say. That the meds made him tired but they were helping. That he owed Connor everything. 

Connor squeezed Evan’s hand. “I know.”

And Evan relaxed a little because this felt like progress. Like he hadn’t actually fucked up here. 

 

* * *

“Leslie, dear, do you think you could close up tonight?” says Gladys, standing at the counter of The Little Book Nook on Friday just after five. “Martha and I are having Connor over for dinner. We were planning to just wait until he’d closed the store, but Martha’s a little under the weather so we’d rather do it earlier if that’s alright.”

 

“Is she okay?” Connor asks, frowning a little. “We can reschedule to tomorrow if you wanted.”

 

“No no, she’s very excited about seeing you,” says Gladys serenely. “She’s making pot roast.”

 

Connor, who cannot remember the last time he ate pot roast, thinks that sounds terrific. “I was going to stop and get dessert on the way,” he says, and Gladys laughs. 

 

“That’s very sweet of you, but there’s honestly no need,” Gladys says with a smile. “We made a cheesecake last night. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about that cheesecake all day.”

 

“Cheesecake?” says Leslie, her eyes lighting up. “Oh man, I’m jealous.” She smiles at Gladys. “And I’m happy to close up.”

 

“Excellent,” says Gladys, nodding like that’s settled. “Connor, dear, just give me a moment to check something in the store room and I’ll order us a Lyft.”

 

“Wait, we’re going now?” says Connor, slightly alarmed.

 

“I really would like that cheesecake,” Gladys says, in her usual matter-of-fact way, and heads to the store room. Leslie turns to Connor, her expression questioning. 

 

“What’s the occasion?” she asks. “I know your birthday’s in February.”

 

It’s then that Connor realizes he hasn’t told Leslie his plan. “I, uh… in March I talked to Gladys and Martha about the store,” he explains. “And what’s going to happen to it in the next couple of years. They’re not getting any younger.”

 

Leslie nods like this makes sense, and then her eyes widen. “Wait, are you… I know you’re managing it now, but… no way.”

 

Connor feels a little weird, because he’s always downplayed the fact that he comes from money, and he knows that his trust fund is insane. “We’re talking about me buying the bookstore,” he says, a little awkwardly. “I, uh… my dad’s a lawyer and I have this ridiculous trust fund and I… I really love this place. So we’re going to talk about it. See if it’s even possible, I guess. The whole me managing thing was to… see if I could do it, and now we’re taking the next step, so…”

 

Leslie’s face breaks into a smile. “That’s so fucking cool,” she says, and Connor relaxes a little, because, well, Leslie’s one of the people who’s going to be affected by this. “You’ve been killing it as a manager, seriously. You’re really good with the customers and you’re not, like, mad with power, and it’s obvious that you really fucking care about this place. That’s… it’s really cool that you can do that.”

 

Connor tries not to sigh in relief. “So you won’t be handing in your resignation if I buy the place?” he asks, only half joking. 

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” says Leslie sincerely. She grins. “I mean, you could learn how to make cheesecake if you really wanted to be sure I’d stick around.”

 

“Noted.”

 

When they get to Gladys and Martha’s place, Connor’s a little on edge. He hasn’t actually ever been there before and he’s not sure what to expect. His first impression of their small ground floor apartment is that it’s… warm. Sure, there’s a ‘little old lady’ vibe, but it’s less ‘mothballs and cats’ and more ‘comfortable and welcoming’. Connor’s not exactly close to his grandparents but he kind of gets a grandmotherly vibe from this place, even though he knows that Gladys and Martha never had children of their own, much less grandchildren. 

 

Gladys kicks off her shoes as she walks through the front door and puts on some slippers, and Connor takes off his shoes as well, glad he’s wearing matching socks. He follows Gladys through into an open plan living and dining room space where Martha’s putting food on the table. She smiles when she sees then, kisses Gladys quickly and then heads straight to Connor. 

 

“I swear you are taller every time I see you,” says Martha, taking his hand in both of hers and squeezing it. “It’s lovely to have you here, Connor. I’ve been looking forward to it.”

 

“Gladys said you weren’t feeling well,” Connor says immediately. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m just old,” says Martha, her tone fond. “It’s one of those things that happens. Shall we eat?”

 

It turns out that Martha’s an excellent cook, which Connor’s not even slightly surprised about. It also turns out that Gladys isn’t one to beat around the bush. 

 

“So we’ve had a good chat about it,” says Gladys as she hands Connor the potatoes, “and we’re willing to sell you the bookstore.”

 

“Wow,” says Connor. It takes a moment before he actually remembers to put potatoes on his plate. “Really?”

 

“Really,” says Martha, her voice warm. “We know you love it, and we know that you want to do right by it.”

 

“Now, I know you’ve mentioned you have a trust fund with some money set aside,” Gladys says, her tone businesslike as she pours cheese sauce over her broccoli. “And as you know, we own the building, including the apartment above the store. We’ve had some offers from people who’d be interested in buying the building - not the business itself, just the building. If we went down that road, we could sell you the business independently of the building, but we’d negotiate a longterm lease so that the business wouldn’t have to move.”

 

“That makes sense,” says Connor, trying to make sure he looks encouraged rather than a little disappointed. He’d kind of hoped he could buy the building as well. 

 

“But we would be willing to sell you the building and the business together,” Martha continues with a nod. “It’s how we did it at the beginning, with a little help from our friends, and I think it worked well. We lived in that apartment above the store up until very recently and… well, I think we both agree that we’d like to see that continue.”

 

“However, we don’t know what your finances are like,” Gladys picks up, looking at her wife then looking at Connor. “So we don’t know what you can afford, and we wanted to make sure you have options.”

 

“Honestly, I’d like to buy the building and the business if I can,” Connor admits, feeling a kind of rush of hope in his chest. “I like the idea of living in the apartment above the store. It makes sense to me.”

 

“It’s a good investment,” says Martha approvingly, slicing into her pot roast. “Owning property in New York City is an excellent investment, really.” She looks at Gladys with a fond smile and then back to Connor. “We’ve been advised by so many people to close up shop and sell the building and make a tidy profit, but… we just can’t do it. We want to see our bookstore keep going.”

 

“I want that, too,” says Connor immediately. “I really, really do.”

 

“Right,” says Gladys, her tone matter-of-fact. “Now, I’ve prepared some paperwork for you, breaking down what we’d be asking for in terms of finances for purchasing the business and purchasing the building. Just so you’ve got somewhere to start. I’d suggest you get a lawyer and have a good look over it, then get your lawyer to get in touch with ours and we can all meet up and get the ball rolling.”

 

“That sounds great,” Connor says, and he can’t help but smile, because it looks like this is really happening. This might be really happening. He looks down at his plate, slices a potato in half then looks back up. “And I’m… not in a hurry,” he tells him. “I mean, if we decide to go ahead with it, I’d like to move into the apartment over the store whenever works for you guys and start paying you rent so you’re not losing money on it, but in terms of officially taking over… there’s a lot I don’t know yet. I’d like to be ready. I’d like to take as much time as I can to learn from you both.”

 

Gladys and Martha exchange a look, then look back at Connor. “That’s smart,” says Martha approvingly. “Honestly, when we opened the place, it was all just trial and error. I’d studied accounting at college, so I had some idea, but Gladys wrote feminist poetry - she didn’t know a thing about running a business.”

 

“We had some bumpy times,” Gladys confesses, “especially in the first five years. But we kept going, and we got there in the end.” She smiles widely. “Opening The Little Book Nook was the second best decision I ever made.”

 

“Her best decision was marrying me,” says Martha matter-of-factly, and Connor can’t help but laugh. 

 

“I don’t think you’ll regret this, Connor,” says Gladys, and she’s using her same matter-of-fact tone that she always does, but there is something open and sincere in her face. “I think that taking over The Little Book Nook would make you very happy. I’ve always known that you were passionate about books, but… you’ve seemed so much more settled in yourself since you first talked to me in March, since you went full time and took on the management role. And that made this decision easy.”

 

Connor’s struck by the sudden realization that he’s getting a little choked up. He focuses back on his meal and smiles. 

 

The subject changes to lighter things. Martha and Gladys tell stories from the early days of the store, and Connor has some customer tales of his own. They soon finish with their main course and Connor helps clear the table and wants to do the dishes as a thank you but Martha shoos him out of the kitchen and brings a very delicious looking cheesecake back into the dining area. 

 

The cheesecake is every bit as good as it looks. Martha insists on packing up a full quarter of the cheesecake in a Tupperware container for him to take with him. 

 

It’s barely 7 by the time Gladys very matter-of-factly asks him for his address and says she’ll call him a Lyft, which Connor politely declines as he’s happy to do it himself. Gladys hands him a manila envelope and then pats his arm gently. 

 

“I do hope this works out,” she says, her voice sincere. “And if it turns out that all you can afford is the business, we will do everything we can to make sure you can stay in the building. We won’t sell it until we have a guarantee that The Little Book Nook isn’t going anywhere.”

 

“Thank you,” says Connor, and Gladys pats his arm again, then pats his cheek. 

 

“You’re a good man, Connor. Whatever happens, I’m glad you’re managing our store.”

 

Instead of getting a Lyft home, Connor gets a Lyft to Evan’s apartment. While he’s in the car, he texts Evan. 

 

**Just finished dinner with Gladys and Martha**

 

Evan replies instantly. 

 

**Already?**

**I thought you weren’t doing that until after work.**

 

**Martha wasn’t feeling well so Gladys asked Leslie to close and I left early**

 

**And?**

**What did they say?**

 

**They said they’ll sell it to me**

**I have some financial stuff to look over to see if I can afford it**

 

**That’s amazing!**

**I’m home if you want me to help you look over it?**

 

Connor smiles. He’d hoped Evan would say that. 

 

**I’m already on my way**

**Martha sent me home with cheesecake**

 

Evan’s reply is quick

 

**Oh man**

**On one hand I’m lactose intolerant and shouldn’t have cheesecake**

**On the other hand cheesecake sounds amazing**

  
  


It’s not long before Connor’s at Evan’s apartment. Evan opens the door and looks tired but he’s smiling. “Congratulations!” he says, pulling Connor into a hug. 

 

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” Connor says but he’s still smiling. 

 

Evan takes the envelope from Connor and they head to the kitchen. He opens up the envelope and starts looking through the information quickly. “Okay,” says Evan, “so they’re giving you multiple options.”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor. He sits down next to Evan. “If I can’t afford to buy the building and the business, I could just buy the business.”

 

“What’s your trust fund like again?” Evan asks, and Connor tells him. Evan looks through the paperwork again, then looks up at Connor and smiles. “You can afford the building and the business. Your trust fund would take a serious hit, but… you could afford it. If it’s what you wanted.”

 

“It’s what I want,” Connor says immediately. Evan grins at him. Connor grins back and runs his fingers through his hair distracted. “Right. Fuck. Okay, Gladys said I need to get a lawyer, and then set up a meeting with her and her lawyer and start talking through the details. So I guess on Monday I start looking for a lawyer.”

 

“Connor,” says Evan, very patiently, “I’m a lawyer.”

 

Connor rolls his eyes. “I know you are. I also know I definitely can’t afford you.”

 

“Who said anything about paying me?” Evan says, eyes widening a little. “Connor. I want to help you.”

 

Connor just… stares at Evan for a long moment. “Wait, are you serious?”

 

“Of course I am,” says Evan immediately, and there’s something unbelievably fond in his expression. “Connor, I… this is something I can do, something I can genuinely help you with, and you’ve helped me so much, it’s the least I can do.”

 

“You don’t owe me anything, Evan,” Connor says softly. “You don’t… you don’t need to feel like you need to make up for anything, I… if there is anything I can do that will help you, I will always do it. No questions asked.”

 

“Then trust me when I say the same thing,” Evan replies instantly, taking Connor’s hand and squeezing it lightly. “Let me do this for you, okay?”

 

For the second time that night, Connor thinks he might be tearing up. 

 

Fuck, that’s embarrassing. 

 

He blinks a few times, collects himself and squeezes Evan’s hand back. “Okay.”

* * *

 

A thing Evan suspects that Connor doesn’t know about him is that he is a big giant nerd and he actually loved the weird minutiae involved in real estate deals. He interned for a real estate lawyer when he was an L1 because he was genuinely interested in it and there was a lot more overlap with environmental law than you might expect. So Evan was actually really excited to dive into this paperwork. 

Also contracts? Evan was really fucking good at contracts. He loved contracts. He could go over contracts for hours without getting bored, which he knew was potentially his superpower because Connor looked a weird mix of intimidated and bored to tears as he explained some of the details. 

Evan might have been embarrassed if this was a conversation about, like, Evan’s obsessively knowledge of the various incarnations of Spider-Man in the comics or something. But this was actually useful and he didn’t super care if he came across as a little too intense, a little bit too pleased with himself. 

“So keeping in mind that you could probably buy the building outright if you were willing to drain your trust fund,” Evan said, “I’d suggest that we go about getting you pre-approved for a mortgage so that we can respond back to Gladys and Martha with actual numbers.”

“But why would I want to have a mortgage if I can just buy it?”

“You definitely want a mortgage,” Evan said. “You’re not just buying a building, you’re buying a business and there’s a lot of liability involved in that. You won’t just need homeowners insurance, for one thing. Plus there’s property tax to think about. If you take out a mortgage, you can work that into your monthly payments rather than getting stuck with a big bill at the end of the fiscal year. Also this way you can save some of your trust fund as an emergency fund, in case there’s a lull in sales or something. A fall back plan.” He shrugged. “Also, realistically, it makes you sound a lot more serious if you come in prepared for a downpayment and financing. If you show up ready to write a check, then you might get screwed over.”

“I don’t think Gladys and Martha -”

“Not them,” Evan said dismissively, because of course the nice old ladies who ran a bookstore weren’t looking to take Connor for a ride. “But their lawyer and realtor will probably take a percentage off of the sale. Bigger sale means a bigger profit.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Also we should probably get a building inspector in there,” Evan said. “Just in case we need to negotiate on any repairs the place needs.” He nodded, looking over the paperwork. “Yeah, look here see? Gladys had an assessment done last year and here’s the estimated value of the property. But it’s from last May, so we want to get someone in there just to make sure there’s nothing not accounted for.”

“You know, like, a lot about this stuff,” Connor said, just barely stifling a yawn. 

“I know, sorry, it’s kind of boring.”

“No! Dude, no, I need to know this stuff. I trust Gladys and Martha but I need to know what I’m getting into, right?”

“Exactly.” He smiled at Connor, a weird flash of pride taking over. Connor was really serious about this. He really was. “I’ll get in touch with their lawyer this week,” Evan went on. 

“You seriously don’t have to do this,” Connor said. “I don’t want you taking on something and regretting it or pushing yourself too hard -”

“I want to help,” Evan said. “And I’m good at this, actually? Like. I’m good. I’m not saying that to brag or whatever, I just know that I can do this. So you should let me.”

Connor smiled. “Okay.”

“Now you told me you were bringing cheesecake and I’ve already taken lactaid so I want that please.”

Connor laughed and handed over the container and Evan grabbed plates and forks and he and Connor dug into the cheesecake. 

“I don’t even know why I’m eating this,” Connor said. “I’m so full oh my god.”

“It’s like crack. Did Martha put crack in the cheesecake?”

“I don’t think it’s kosher to joke about crack,” Connor said. 

“Oh have you been googling kosher now? Because I don’t remember the crack rule.”

“I feel like there is definitely a crack rule,” Connor said, taking another bite out of the cheesecake and moaning and that. 

Reminded Evan that they hadn’t had sex in a while. And sort of made him miss having sex with Connor because Connor was good at sex. 

Evan shook his head, looking back down at the cheesecake. “There’s not a crack rule.”

“Have you got a Torah handy? We should check.”

“I have a feeling that crack wasn’t around when it was written.”

“There’s always been crack.”

The door swung open, revealing Alex, frowning at her phone. “You guys aren’t doing crack, right?” She said. “Because I don’t have time to deal with you on crack.”

“There’s cheesecake,” Evan said, holding out his plate and fork. 

“Ooh nice,” Alex said, taking the plate. She put a piece in her mouth and groaned. “Okay I understand the crack comments now.”

“Right?”

“Connor thinks it’s not kosher to joke about crack.”

“Kosher is fine with it, but polite society? Not so much.” Alex chewed and swallowed another bite. “So Connor, are you coming to dinner with us on Friday?”

Connor looked at Evan, uncertain. 

“Sorry, I hadn’t asked you yet because I was excited about the news with the store. Alex and Mattie want us to have dinner on Friday.”

“Oh, cool,” Connor said. 

“So are you really buying your bookstore?” Alex said, smiling. 

“Sounds like it.”

“Cool. Tell me about it on Friday, because I’m going to bed. Night guys.”

* * *

 

Alex and Mattie decided on the Italian place they’d taken Evan after he finished the bar. Connor met them there at eight thirty, and he looked nice, he wore a blazer and Evan always liked that blazer on him. 

“Hey guys,” Connor said, smiling and he grabbed a seat next to Evan bumping his shoulder in greeting. 

“Oh good you’re here,” Mattie said with this big smile. “Help us decide, should we have a red or a white?”

“Oh, uh,” Connor said, looking at Evan, expression uncertain. 

“I’m going to stick to water,” Evan said, shrugging, like it was no big deal because it really wasn’t. He wasn’t, like, done drinking forever but the idea of it still made him feel a little queasy so he wasn’t drinking tonight. “Go for whatever you want, don’t worry about me.”

They settled on white without Evan’s input, which was probably for the best because trying to decide on a wine would have taken all night. Evan had already picked out his main meal before they came, which meant he could order easily. 

“So,” Mattie said once they’d ordered. “Alex said Connor is buying a bookstore?”

“I am,” Connor said. “Well. Hopefully. I’m still working out the details.”

“He’s buying it,” Evan said, smiling. “I’m gonna make sure of it. I’ve got the contracts in progress already.”

“Evan’s kind of hot when he’s all lawyerly,” Mattie said, smirking. 

“Right?” Alex said. “Evan’s so wholesome looking but he always surprises me with the hotness.”

Evan felt his face heat up. 

“Evan’s always hot, you’re just not paying attention,” Connor said and Evan’s face flamed. 

“Oh I like him,” Mattie said, smirking. “I like you Connor.”

“Thanks?” Connor said, quirking a smile. 

“We’re not used to compliments. We didn’t have friends in high school,” Evan said smiling and Alex cracked up laughing. 

“Me either,” She said. “High school was fucking awful.”

“I was prom queen,” Mattie said. 

“Huh,” Connor said, his head tilted slightly. 

“It was a joke,” Mattie continued. “I had green hair and a septum piercing and everyone was convinced I was planning to shoot up the school.”

“You too? I was the school shooter at ours,” Connor said smiling.

“Jesus,” Alex said. “Kids are horrible.”

“Tell me about it.”

They had a good laugh. The conversation drifted as their food arrived, Mattie telling them about a woman in labor who was so desperate to convince the staff that she was ready for an epidural that she peed on an intern. 

“That’s disgusting,” Evan said, laughing. 

“Baby makers are so weird,” Connor said, and he was smiling, and Evan thought maybe he was actually enjoying himself even though he wasn’t eating very much, that Connor was relaxing a bit and having a good time and this wasn’t just a humoring-Evan-so-he-doesn’t-fall-to-pieces thing but a real, honest to goodness nice evening. 

Apparently Evan could still have those. What a concept. 

Mattie was a huge lightweight, it turned out. She had two glasses of wine with dinner and she was slurring her words and gesturing with her hands and resting her head against Alex’s shoulder when she laughed. 

It was cute. Evan was glad that they had each other. 

They took a Lyft back to Evan, Mattie, and Alex’s place, with Alex climbing into the front seat to ask the driver about a mole on her neck and if she had had it checked out and it was lovely and charming and once they got back to the apartment, Mattie and Alex said goodnight because they had to work early the next day. 

“You want to watch something?” Connor asked, and Evan nodded and they went into Evan’s room and he took of his coat and tie and sat on his bed beside Connor, and Evan sifted through his streaming channels and Connor volunteered that he hadn’t watched  _ Killing Eve  _ yet and neither had Evan so they sat back and tuned into the first episode. 

“Sandra Oh is amazing,” Connor said, smiling. 

“Is that Aunt Petunia from Harry Potter?” Evan said. 

“It super is,” Connor said, and he was smiling. 

Connor seemed to like Villanelle. He thought she was funny. Evan found her a bit unnerving but still interesting and they ended up watching most of the episode in rapt silence. 

“Jodie Comer’s sort of hot,” Connor said. “And Sandra Oh is super hot. Maybe I should tell Andi to watch this. She doesn’t like violence but she likes hot women.”

“Since when do you know anything about hot women?”  
“Hey women might not be my thing but I know hot when I see it.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” Connor said and his voice had shifted. “For example, you looked really hot in that suit tonight.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah I like this one,” Connor said, and he was smiling wickedly and tugged ever so gently on one of Evan’s belt loops,  and Evan thought about kissing him but stopped himself. Connor seemed to sense his hesitation. “Is this weird?”

“No,” Evan said. “I just sort of… I thought maybe you didn’t want to, uh, you know. Have sex with me anymore after… After I was such a disaster?”

Connor rolled his eyes. “It would take a lot more than a little puke to make me stop thinking of you as hot.”

“Huh,” Evan said and now he was smiling. “So you like this suit, huh?” His hand had crept over onto Connor’s knee, and he could tell Connor was watching his hand as his thumb traced circles on his knee before his fingers inched a little higher up Connor’s thigh. 

“Yeah it has a nice, uh. Cut.”

“You think?”

“Yeah,” Connor said, his breathing hitching as Evan moved his hand to cup him through his jeans and he was starting to get hard and then Connor was pushing the laptop out of the way, straddling Evan’s hips and kissing him hard. 

“If I’d known Sandra Oh got you all hot and bothered I would have insisted we start to watch Grey’s Anatomy,” Evan said teasing and Connor laughed at him and kissed him again, harder, his tongue exploring Evan’s mouth, his hands running through Evan’s hair. 

Evan pulled away to kiss Connor’s neck and collar bone and Connor groaned as Evan teeth grazed the sensitive skin and used the moment that Connor was distracted to push Connor back onto the mattress and climb on top of him, their hips meeting and Connor smiled and said, “Well are you gonna take my pants off or what?”

Evan was, in fact, going to take Connor’s pants off. But first he needed to get him out of that shirt because it was a crime that Connor was still wearing one, still hiding away his gorgeous body and so he nudged the fabric up and Connor got the idea and pulled it over his head. Satisfied at the sight of Connor shirtless in his bed, Evan kissed him again, kissed his way down from his mouth to his neck to his chest, and he stopped to lick and nibble Connor’s nipple a little because he had nice nipples and Evan hadn’t paid them nearly enough attention in the past and Connor laughed, like he was surprised, and then groaned when Evan used his teeth again. He kept moving south, tongue swirling over Connor’s navel and then down to his hips. “Fuck, you’re so hot Connor,” he mumbled, before he undid Connor’s belt and pulled it off, discarding it carelessly. 

Connor pulled him down for a hot kiss, and he tasted a little like wine but mostly like Connor and Evan couldn’t wait anymore, he had to touch him. He pulled away, unzipping Connor’s jeans and Connor lifted his hips a little so Evan could pull them off. He pulled off Connor’s underwear too, and Connor was naked and the head of his cock was flushed and Evan wrapped his hand around it and stroked him and Connor’s breathing hitched. 

“You’re  _ -fuck _ \- wearing too many clothes,” Connor complained, his fingers clumsily going for the buttons of Evan’s shirt and Evan regretfully released Connor’s cock so he could undress. Connor pulled off Evan’s shirt while Evan undid his belt and pants and stood up so he could pull them off and Connor smiled at him, this big cocky smile. “Is that for me or Sandra Oh?” He asked, teasing, and Evan pounced on him, hand reaching between Connor’s legs to stroke him and his mouth attacking Connor’s neck, licking and sucking until he was satisfied that Connor wouldn’t doubt it was him that Evan had gotten this hard for. 

“Damn,” Connor said. “Sandra Oh really does it for you, eh?”

“Shut up,” Evan said and he pulled at Connor’s hair and he moaned. “Or I won’t fuck you.”

“Unfair,” Connor whined. “Very unfair.”

“Then you better be good,” Evan said, touching Connor’s cock again. 

“I’ll be good,” Connor gasped. “I’ll be really good, promise.”

“Oh yeah?” Evan said, and his cock was extremely interested in Connor’s breathless promise. “How good?” He kissed Connor again. “Will you show me?”

Connor pushed Evan onto his back, and he was reaching for the bedside table, pulling out a condom and some lube, his hand on Evan’s cock, stroking him. “Really good,” He said and he was smiling wickedly, and he lowered his head, kissing Evan’s hip and then tracing a wet trail across his skin to Evan’s cock where he gently placed his lips on the tip, his tongue flicking across the slit and Evan moaned. He blew Evan beautifully, his lips stretching over his cock, his eyes on Evan’s face the whole time, and after a few minutes Evan had to warn him that if Connor wanted to get fucked, he would need to stop blowing Evan. 

“Okay,” Connor said, and he was smiling wickedly. He reached across Evan to grab the lube, and he leaned back against the pillows, pouring a little lube onto his fingers and reached behind himself… And Evan almost lost it right there, at the sight of Connor fingering himself, whimpering a little as he did, and then he looked Evan in the eye and said, “I want to get ready for your cock.”

Fuck. Fuck. Evan stroked himself unconsciously because holy fuck that was so hot. 

He leaned over, grasping Connor’s cock and kissing him, murmuring that Connor was so good, he looked so gorgeous and Connor’s cheeks were pink and he groaned against Evan’s lips. “I’m almost,” he said as Evan stroked him again. “Almost ready.”

“Ready for what?” Evan inquired, faux innocently. 

“Ready for you to fuck me,” Connor said and Evan kissed him again. He released 

Connor’s cock, instead reaching down to his hole where Connor had worked two fingers into himself. He pressed his own finger in and Connor stopped breathing for a moment, then swore, “Fucking hell Evan.”

“Just checking your work,” He said smiling. “You did very well. I think I’ll fuck you now.”

“Yes, please,” Connor said and he looked so hot like that, his face open and eyes burning with need. 

Evan withdrew his finger. He ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth and then rolled it over his erection. He stopped, spreading some lube onto himself, and Connor pulled his fingers out, and Evan grabbed Connor’s hips roughly, settling himself between Connor’s legs. 

“Ready?”

“Please,” Connor said, kissing Evan’s mouth, “Please.”

Evan steadied himself for a moment and then pushed inside. Fuck, Connor was so tight around him, so hot, and he was moaning, his lube slick fingers reaching down to stroke his cock and Evan knew this particular round of sex was going to be a sprint rather than a marathon. He thrust again, deeper this time, and again and again and Connor was moaning, and Evan just couldn’t get enough of him. He fucked Connor greedily, deep hard thrusts, and Connor’s nails were digging into his back and it didn’t take long until he was coming hard, riding out the orgasm while Connor’s hips bucked beneath him, and Connor finished second after, spilling over his own hand and saying Evan’s name. 

“Wow,” Evan said, taking a deep breath as he slowly pulled out of Connor, rolling onto his back to deal with the condom with shaky hands. 

“I think maybe… just guessing here, but maybe both of us needed this,” Connor said breathlessly and Evan laughed, collapsing on the other side of the bed. 

“Just a bit.”

“High five?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Return of the porn!


	6. August (Six Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It feels like time stops in the sunshine spot.”

It’s not like Cynthia Murphy has never visited her kids in New York, but it’s the first time that she’s actually visited Connor anywhere that means anything to him. Every other time Cynthia’s been in the city, they’ve met up for dinner or drinks a couple of times and it’s been awkward and impersonal. This visit feels different.

 

This visit is different.

 

For one, Connor’s actually looking forward to seeing her. He’d called her right after he’d gotten pre-approved for his mortgage to buy the bookstore and the building, because that made everything real. That made the whole thing something that was actually happening, not a vague plan, and he’d wanted to tell her.

 

She’d been so excited that she’d insisted she needed to come to town to see him, to see the bookstore, because even though he’s worked there since his senior year at Columbia, he’s never let his mother visit him at work, never really let her be part of that part of his life.

 

But it’s something he wants to be better at now.

 

So when she’d insisted she wanted to come to New York and see this bookstore he was buying, he’d told her when he was working and the address and said he was looking forward to seeing her.

 

And he’d meant it this time.

 

Cynthia shows up at The Little Book Nook just after four. She looks good, Connor thinks. She looks rested and comfortable and the smile on her face is genuine, rather than the smiles he remembers from his teenage years that felt a little too painted on, a little too polished to be really real.

 

“Hey, Mom,” he greets her as she moves toward him and pulls him into a hug. She’s wearing something soft and the hug is warmer than he remembers.

 

Or maybe he’s warmer. He can’t really be sure.

 

“It’s so good to see you,” she says as she pulls away, a wide smile still on her face. “And so good to see your bookstore!”

 

“It’s not my bookstore yet,” he mumbles, feeling a little embarrassed. He looks around, making sure no one’s listening in, but the store is empty, Leslie is on a break and there’s no one to overhear them.

 

“Not yet,” she agrees happily. “But it will be. Oh, I have to have a good look around.” Before he can say anything, she holds her hands up in a gentle act of protest. “I know you’re still working, so it gives me time to really get to know the place. Plus, I’ve been waiting to do my book shopping until this trip anyway.”

 

Connor resists the urge to sigh. Of course she has.

 

It’s a slow afternoon and while Connor’s trying to focus on some bookkeeping, he’s really just watching as his mom looks around the bookstore, occasionally stopping to look at a book, pull it out and add it to her pile.

 

He notices that she does this thing where she strokes the spine of the book before pulling it out of the shelf, and realizes that he does the exact same thing.

 

It’s weird, but kind of nice to see where he gets it from.

 

The store is warm in the summer sun, but not too warm to be uncomfortable. There’s a chair in one of the corners that gets the perfect amount of sunlight and eventually Connor sees his mom find her way there, sitting down and closing her eyes for a moment before looking through her pile and seemingly checking it against a list in her planner.

 

The sunlight catches on her hair, turning it into a brilliant copper, and Connor thinks to himself that his mom looks good.

 

She looks happy.

 

Connor’s therapist Praveed would tell him that he’s not responsible for his parents’ divorce, but he’s not naive enough to think that he wasn’t at least a contributing factor. Still, the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that his mother is different since his parents split up. She’s calmer, for one. Less frantic, less stressed, less desperate to make things work, desperate to keep up appearances.

 

To someone like his mother, going through the scandal of a divorce could very well have been her worst nightmare when Connor was growing up. So it’s kind of nice to see that not only has she survived it, but she’s thriving.

 

She’s doing really well.

 

Cynthia catches Connor’s eye and raises an eyebrow, a little questioningly. Connor finds himself smiling.

 

“What is it?” asks his mom.

 

“Nothing,” Connor assures her. “It’s just… you look happy.”

 

Cynthia smiles. “So do you.”

 

Connor feels his smile grow a little wider, and kind of ducks his head because he’s a little embarrassed, but he sees his mom smile even more out of the corner of his eye and it makes something in his chest feel warm and that’s kind of a new feeling, to be honest.

 

He kind of likes it.

 

He’s been noticing a lot more, ever since…

 

Well, ever since he turned twenty-seven.

 

Like, well and truly turned twenty-seven, a couple of dozen times.

 

Just before closing, the bell over the door rings and in come Gladys and Martha, both talking animatedly about something. It’s been a month since Connor’s seen Martha, and she’s thinner than she used to be, which is a bit of a shock. Gladys is holding onto her arm and supporting her and it takes a moment for them to acknowledge Connor, which isn’t really a surprise.

 

Connor secretly really enjoys the fact that whenever Gladys and Martha are together, they always seem like they’re in their own little world.

 

It’s very cute.

 

“Hello, Connor dear,” says Martha warmly, shuffling toward him. “I see you haven’t burned the place down yet.”

 

“I’m doing my best,” he replies, because that’s how the script goes when talking to Martha. It has been ever since he started working at The Little Book Nook halfway through his senior year of college.

 

Martha’s not much of a hugger, but she does take his hand and squeeze it firmly, her wrinkled eyes warm, kind and a startlingly clear green. There’s something in the way she holds onto his hand reminds Connor of Evan, a tight squeeze that feels like it means something more than any words could ever say.

 

Connor suspects they’re here because he mentioned that his mother would be in town today, and his suspicions are confirmed when Gladys makes a beeline toward the window chair where Cynthia’s going through her book list.

 

“You must be Cynthia,” says Gladys, her tone as matter-of-fact and no-nonsense as normal. “Connor said his mother was coming to visit. I can see the resemblance.”

 

“And you must be Gladys,” says Cynthia, standing up and taking the offered hand to shake. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

 

“I see you’re making good use of the sunshine spot,” says Martha cheerfully from the counter where she’s standing next to Connor. “It was always my favorite, from the moment we first opened this place. Just the perfect amount of warmth and light.” She looks at Gladys and her whole face softens, and just for a moment Connor catches a glimpse of what she must have looked like as a much younger woman, embarking on an adventure with the love of her life. “It feels like time stops in the sunshine spot.”

 

“Time stops,” Gladys agrees, warm brown eyes lighting up and years melting away from her face as she stands, backlit by sunshine in the summer afternoon. “But it happens all at once, too. It’s a strange thing, time.”

 

Connor thinks to himself that Martha and Gladys have no idea how strange time can really be.

 

Cynthia catches Connor’s eye again and smiles. Connor thinks that she’s seeing what he’s seeing, too - a glimpse into the past, two women caught in nostalgia’s bittersweet ache.

 

Something inside of Connor’s chest twists, and he can’t figure out if he’s a little disgusted with himself to be thinking something so fucking cheesy or if there is something inside him that desperately wants that nostalgia to be part of his story one day.

 

It might be a little bit of both.

 

“I can take the counter for a little while,” says Gladys, stepping out of the light and back into the center of the store, breaking the illusion. “Connor, why don’t you take your mother upstairs? Show her where you’ll be living soon.”

 

“That’s a wonderful idea,” says Martha encouragingly. “It’ll give me a moment to have a look around. Maybe rearrange some of these displays.”

 

“Don’t you dare touch my displays,” Connor says teasingly. “I worked hard on those.”

 

“My great grand-niece sent me a photo on Facebook the other day,” says Martha with a wicked grin. “There was a bookstore display with a sign that said ‘I can’t remember the title but it was red’. Isn’t that funny? You should do a display like that.”

 

Connor has in fact seen that particular Facebook post and admittedly, it had made him laugh. “If you can find enough books, then be my guest,” he says indulgently, and Martha lets out a bell-like laugh that makes her sound years younger, and Connor’s once again struck with that feeling of history.

 

Gladys unlocks the door to the staircase to the apartment and ushers them up. “Excuse the mess,” she says, her tone not even slightly apologetic. “We’re getting things sorted out up here. The plan is to have everything ready by the end of summer so Connor can get moved in around September, October at the latest.”

 

“That’s soon,” says Cynthia, her tone a little surprised. “I didn’t realize it was this soon.”

 

“We have a plan,” Connor assures his mother. “Since I’ll be buying the building, we’ve organized so the rent I’ll be paying on the apartment will go toward the eventual purchase, but Gladys and Martha will technically be my landlords for a while.”

 

“We’re not rushing into Connor taking over the place,” Gladys says, as matter-of-fact as ever. “Giving him plenty of time to pick our brains and learn the ropes so it’s as smooth a transition as can be.”

 

“It’s like an apprenticeship,” Connor tries to explain. “Kind of.” At his mother’s encouraging look, he continues. “This place has been around for decades, the last thing I want to do is run it into the ground. Working with Gladys and Martha like this means that all the customers and suppliers all get a chance to get to know me. And, you know… this bookstore is important to a lot of people. So they need to know that even though things are changing, it’s still going to be a place that’s… you know, theirs.”

 

“We wouldn’t sell to just anyone,” says Gladys firmly. “The Little Book Nook is important to the community, not just us. But we know that Connor understands what it means.” She looks at him and nods decisively. “We’re very happy with our decision. He’s always been a fine employee, and ever since he’s stepped up as manager we’ve seen that he can do this.” She smiles slightly. “The store is in good hands.”

 

As if that settles that, Gladys heads downstairs, leaving Connor and Cynthia alone in the apartment.

 

Connor gives his mom a short tour. It’s not a terribly big apartment, but there’s more space than you’d expect. There’s a master bedroom, along with a smaller single bedroom, a kitchen and dining room space and a living room, and a surprisingly spacious bathroom. Cynthia makes approving noises and every now and then writes something down.

 

“What are you writing?” Connor asks, fairly confident he knows the answer.

 

“I’m just making a list of everything you’ll need,” she says, her tone deliberately casual. “I didn’t realize you were moving so soon, but you’ll need furniture.”

 

“I can get furniture.”

 

“You’ve never lived alone before,” Cynthia points out. “You’ll have to start from scratch.”

 

“Mom, I’ve got this.”

 

“There might be things you haven’t thought about,” she presses. “I made a list when I moved into my new place after your father and I separated and I still forgot things.”

 

“You can send me the list, then,” Connor says, trying not to roll his eyes. “But I can figure it out.”

 

“What date are you moving?” Cynthia asks.

 

Connor shrugs. “I don’t know. It depends on what Gladys and Martha decide.”

 

“So you haven’t given your roommate notice?”

 

“Andi’s got a big art installation coming up over the winter,” Connor tells his mom. “To be honest, she’ll be happy to get rid of me. She needs the space.”

 

“And you said she’d be out of town this weekend, didn’t you?” asks Cynthia, looking over at a windowsill, seemingly sizing it up for curtains.

 

“She’s back home in Iowa, yeah.”

 

Cynthia looks around and nods. “I like this apartment, Connor,” she says with a satisfied nod.

 

“I’ll probably be here awhile,” Connor says, trying to keep his tone as nonchalant as he can. “So it’s good that you like it, I guess.”

 

Cynthia smiles. There’s something warm in her eyes. She looks around again, then lets out a laugh. “When you were six years old, you told me you were going to live in a bookstore when you grew up.”

 

Connor can’t help but laugh. “I don’t remember that.”

 

“Oh, you were very insistent,” Cynthia continues, grinning. “You told me you were going to live in a bookstore, surrounded by all the books, and that they’d all be your friends and you’d eat peanut butter sandwiches and sleep in the reading corner on the cushions.”

 

“Honestly, that still sounds pretty great,” Connor has to admit. “Gotta love a peanut butter sandwich.”

 

Gladys appears at the top of the stairs. “Martha and I are heading out,” she says. “But feel free to take your time having a look around. Leslie has offered to close so you’re officially off the clock.”

 

Before Connor can say anything, Gladys is back down the stairs. For a woman in her seventies, she’s pretty quick.

 

“We’ve got a bit of time,” Cynthia says. “Zoe said she’s with a client until 7, then she’ll head back to her apartment before meeting us for dinner at 8.30.”

 

“We could always go get a drink,” Connor offers. “Seeing as apparently I’m not closing tonight.”

 

Cynthia nods. “Sounds great. I just want to check out a couple of things in the bedroom first. I saw this great set of bedroom furniture online that I think would look great. And I remember seeing something that would really work for the bathroom, too.”

 

With that, she’s headed toward the bedroom. Connor figures he’ll give Martha and Gladys a hand and pack up some of the huge pile of books in the living room, because he knows from experience his mother will probably take a while.

 

He’s managed to get three boxes packed and labelled when his phone rings. He can see from the screen that it’s Evan, and puts him on speaker so he can keep packing up the books. He hasn’t heard from Evan much over the last few days because he’s been at a three day conference that has taken up most of his energy.

 

“Hey,” Connor says. “Finally done with the conference?”

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, and even through the phone Connor can tell that he’s a little on edge.

 

“How was it?”

 

Evan sighs. “Long. Tedious. I’m exhausted, but I drank so much coffee to get through it that I’m just kind of… on this ridiculous caffeine high and it’s making me kind of crazy.”

 

Connor nods, then remembers Evan can’t see him. “Yeah, I get that.”

 

“How are you?” Evan asks.

 

“Finishing early, actually,” he says. “Leslie’s closing up.”

 

“Perfect,” says Evan, and he sounds determined. “I’m nearly home. I’m going to shower, then I’m going to pick up a bottle of whisky, then I’m coming to your apartment and fucking you into the mattress. Be home by six.”

 

Connor drops the book he’s holding.

 

He can hear footsteps coming back into the room.

 

Also, he’s pretty sure his face is on fire.

 

“Okay sounds good I need to go but I’ll text you,” Connor says in a rush. He very quickly ends the call before Evan can say anything else.

 

He picks up the book and puts it in the box then stands up, puts his phone in his pocket and turns to his mother, who almost definitely overheard Evan’s last words.

 

Shit.

 

Fuck.

 

“Did you want to go grab that drink?” says Connor’s mother, cool as a cucumber but with amusement in her eyes.

 

“Actually, I have a… thing,” Connor says, improvising wildly. “Didn’t Zoe say she wanted to meet us at her office at six?” He looks at his phone. “You should be able to get to her office by the time she’s done with her last client.”

 

“I’m sure she said she was going to meet us later on,” Cynthia says, and Connor has to admire her self-control. “I thought I wrote it down in my planner.”

 

“Dinner at eight thirty, right?” Connor says, taking his mother’s arm and guiding her down the stairs. “I should be… I should be done by then, and if I’m not then we can always catch up tomorrow night. And I know Zoe wanted to spend some one on one time with you.”

 

“Oh, we’re going shopping together tomorrow,” says Cynthia. “We’ll be spending the whole day together.”

 

“I’m sure you need to… figure out where you’re going to shop,” Connor tries desperately, waving at Leslie behind the counter as he practically drags his mother out through the front door. “New York is big. There are… lots of shopping places. It’s good to plan ahead.” He picks up his bag from by the counter, checks all the windows, does a final sweep and then pulls out his phone. “I’ll order you a Lyft to Zoe’s office.”

 

Cynthia just smiles at him for a long moment. When she finally speaks, her voice is soft. “Evan makes you very happy, doesn’t he?”

 

“We’re friends,” Connor says automatically. “It’s not… we’re not… we’re just friends.”

 

Cynthia’s smile widens. “I see,” she says. “I had a friend like that in college.”

 

“Mom!”

 

“Her name was Marjorie and the things she could do with her tongue-”

 

“Oh look, here’s a taxi!”

 

Connor unceremoniously throws his mother into the taxi he’s managed to flag down and shuts the door before she can continue.

 

Then he pulls out his phone and texts Evan.

 

**Sorry I hung up on you. Dropped a box of books. See you at six.**

 

By the time he gets home, it’s just before six. Connor takes a few minutes to move the pile of clothes from his bed to the laundry hamper because even though he and Evan have done this a million times by now, he still feels like he should at least make some kind of an effort. Or maybe he just knows himself well enough by now to know that if Evan’s here for sex, pretty much everything else becomes completely irrelevant the minute Evan starts touching him.

 

The doorbell rings and Connor’s a little embarrassed at how fast he goes to answer it.

 

Evan’s holding a bottle of whisky. He’s wearing a shirt that Connor’s seen him in before and always thought he looked nice in. While he does look tired, it’s clear from the expression on his face that he knows exactly what he came here for.

 

It’s so fucking hot Connor can barely stand it.

 

“Andi’s out of town this weekend, right?” Evan says, casting his eyes up and down Connor’s body with a look so predatory it sends a shiver up his spine.

 

“Yeah,” Connor manages to choke out.

 

“Good,” says Evan, and grabs Connor by the collar of his shirt and pulls him in for a rough kiss, guiding him through the doorway as he does so. Connor barely has the presence of mind to shut the front door before Evan’s got him pushed up against the wall, deepening the kiss and then pulling away to press his lips to the nape of Connor’s neck.

 

Connor lets out an embarrassingly loud moan and bites his lip as Evan’s hands move toward the hem of his shirt, deftly undoing buttons from the bottom up as he continues to kiss his neck. “Fucking hell.”

 

“If your roommate isn’t here all weekend,” says Evan, his voice husky and almost ragged with lust, “then I could fuck you anywhere in this apartment that I wanted.”

 

Before Connor can answer, Evan’s kissing him again and fuck, fucking hell, Connor’s happy to let Evan do whatever the fuck he wants as long as he keeps making him feel this good. Evan moves him toward the living room and pushes him against the sofa and practically climbs on top of him. He works off Connor’s shirt, then takes off his own, and once they’re both shirtless Connor pulls Evan toward him, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of Evan’s skin on his own.

 

He feels like he’s on fire. Like he’s about to burn up from inside, about to spontaneously combust.

 

They died in a gas explosion together once.

 

This is nothing like that night.

 

The sofa, it turns out, isn’t actually that comfortable for what they’re doing, and it’s not long before Evan’s breathlessly insisting that they move to Connor’s room. Once they’re there, Evan pushes Connor to his knees, and Connor’s never been someone who follows direction well in any other situation but when it comes to _this,_ when it’s Evan with his eyes dark and demanding, he’s more than happy to do exactly as he’s told.

 

They’ve done this so many times now, and Connor knows Evan’s body almost as well as he knows his own. He knows exactly what to do to get the reactions he wants, to crack through Evan’s self-control and elicit the most _delicious_ noises, sounds that go straight through Connor like electricity.

 

He was electrocuted once.

 

This is nothing like it.

 

Evan’s hand weaves through Connor’s hair and pulls and Connor can’t help but moan, because as much as Connor knows Evan’s body, Connor’s body doesn’t have any secrets from Evan anymore, either. Evan leads him up to the bed and kisses him deeply and pushes him against the mattress and Connor can’t think, he can’t fucking think, all he can do is feel and respond and follow whatever breathless command Evan says and it’s all so fucking hot and it’s always fucking incredible, it’s always been incredible sex, ever since that first time on a night that never happened.

 

The night where they’d died over a dozen times and Evan told him, drunk and bold, that he could fuck Connor better than Richard.

 

And holy shit. Richard was never even anywhere _close_ to how good Evan is at this, and Connor’s a fucking idiot for wasting a year of his life on an asshole like him when it could all be so, so much better.

 

When they’ve finally worn each other out, it takes a moment for Connor to get his breath back. Evan’s sweaty and warm next to him and he’s panting as well, but seems happier. Less wound up.

 

“You’d think,” says Connor, still breathless, “that I’d be in better shape. Considering how often we do this.”

 

“I like your shape just fine,” says Evan with a satisfied smirk. “But I get what you mean.” He laughs a little. “The whole point of cardio is to get your heart rate up, right?”

 

“You live with doctors,” Connor points out. “You’re more likely to know than I am.”

 

There’s a weird feeling in his chest when Evan mentions cardio. He remembers a conversation right after Evan got his bar exam results.

 

_“Sex with you is basically cardio, which is really good because I_ know _I’m supposed to exercise but I hate jogging. I really fucking hate jogging, Connor.”_

 

Evan kind of sighs and moves away from Connor, ever so slightly. He’s clearly reached his quota on post-coital cuddling, which is usually a sign that it’s time to get dressed.

 

Connor rolls over and looks at his phone, which has miraculously ended up on his dresser.

 

Somehow, it’s nearly nine.

 

“Fuck,” he says, feeling more than a little guilty. “I missed dinner with my mom and Zoe.”

 

Evan sits up and looks at Connor, his expression equal parts guilt and alarm. “Shit, I completely forgot your mom was in town this weekend,” he says. “Why didn’t you say something?”

 

Connor shrugs. “You sounded like you needed it.” He gestures between them. “Needed this.” He smirks. “What are friends for?”

 

Evan kind of rubs his face. “You should have said something,” he insists. “I could have waited. Or just… taken care of things myself.”

 

Connor rolls his eyes. There’s something tight and niggling in his chest he’s trying to ignore. “It’s been a long week,” he says. “I needed this too, okay? Mom was at the store this afternoon and she’s… you know, a lot. And she and Zoe wanted some time to catch up, anyway, so… it’s no big deal. We’ll all have dinner tomorrow.” Connor notices there’s a text on his phone from his mom and reads it quickly. “Oh hey, she wants to know if you want to join us tomorrow.”

 

Evan’s quiet, and Connor looks at him to see he’s gone pale. “Your mom knows we’re just friends, right?” he says, his tone a little too deliberate to be truly casual.

 

“Yes,” Connor says firmly, even though there is a part of him that thinks that ‘just friends’ is nowhere near the right term to describe Evan, because even though their relationship is strictly platonic and the sex is strictly physical, ‘friends’ just seems like too weak a word. It doesn’t have enough weight to carry everything they are to each other, given everything they’ve been through. “She likes you, though. Thinks you’re a good influence on me.” Connor smirks. “Considering that from her perspective, I started getting my shit together around the time we met… from where she’s standing, it makes sense.”

 

Evan snorts. “You decided to buy the bookstore on your own. It had nothing to do with me.”

 

Connor shrugs, and heads over to his dresser to pull out a t-shirt and a fresh pair of boxers. He turns to see Evan pulling on his underwear and his pants, then looking around for his shirt. Connor goes back to the dresser, pulls out a shirt Evan left a few weeks ago that he’d washed and put away and then throws it toward Evan, who puts it on after a mumbled thank you.

 

Connor gets dressed as Evan leaves the room. When he comes back, he’s got the bottle of whisky and two glasses. He sets the bottle down on Connor’s bedside table and pours them both a drink with practiced ease.

 

“If we’re drinking,” Connor says matter-of-factly, “then we should really get something to eat.”

 

Evan nods. “You’re right. Do we want to do pizza or Thai?”

 

“We did Thai last time,” Connor points out. “Half pepperoni, half margarita and some cheesy garlic bread?”

 

“Done,” Evan says with a decisive nod, pulling out his phone.

 

“I can get it,” says Connor quickly, reaching for his own phone.

 

Evan rolls his eyes. “You got it last time. Don’t think I forgot.”

 

“I’ll Venmo you half.”

 

“No you fucking won’t.”

 

Connor laughs. “Asshole.”

 

His phone vibrates and he sees there’s another message from his mother.

 

**Let me know what your movements are tomorrow. Maybe we could all have lunch.**

 

A thought occurs to him and he finds himself laughing.

 

“Oh my god.”

 

Evan stops what he’s doing to look at Connor. “What?”

 

“Apparently my mom had a friend in college named Marjorie who could do amazing things with her tongue.”

 

Evan’s eyes widen and he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Jesus _fuck_ Connor, why do you know that? And why do _I_ have to know that?”

 

Connor cracks up laughing and then tries to figure out how he’s going to explain this to Evan without letting on that his mother may have overheard Evan telling Connor he planned to fuck him into the mattress.

 

He’s pretty sure Evan’s head would literally explode.

 

Neither of them dealt with an exploding head during their many deaths and Connor’s not super keen to see if it’s possible now.

 

“It was an offhand comment,” Connor says finally. “Which I totally didn’t even process til, like, this minute.”

 

Evan looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t. Instead, he looks at his phone, then puts it in his pocket. “Pizza will be here in half an hour,” he announces, then sits on the edge of Connor’s bed and kind of looks at him.

 

Connor sits next to him. “Tell me more about this conference.”

 

Evan’s eyes flash with something like tired enthusiasm and he launched into an explanation about this environmental conference he’d attended and how ridiculous it was that they’d served coffee in recycled paper cups when they could have used reusable mugs. Connor is always secretly delighted when Evan goes on a rant about something he’s passionate about, especially if he’s pissed off about it, so listens intently and makes noises of agreement in appropriate places and tries to ignore the weird, slightly hollow feeling in his chest that’s settled in for reasons he can’t quite explain.

 

When the pizza arrives, they’re both on their third glass of whisky and Evan’s well into a rant about how recycling is all well and good, but people need to think about reducing and reusing as well. Connor’s happy to let him keep talking but it seems like Evan’s either run out of steam or has all of a sudden realized he’s been talking for half an hour and has abruptly stopped.

 

“I should get one of those reusable coffee cups,” Connor says matter-of-factly as he opens the pizza box and takes a slice of pepperoni.

 

“You should,” Evan agrees firmly. He doesn’t continue his rant, though, so Connor fills the space by telling him about his mother’s insistence that she furnish his new apartment.

 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she runs out and buys me furniture the minute I have a move-in date,” Connor says as he pulls a piece of cheesy garlic bread off the loaf. When he bites into it, he makes sure he’s chewed it thoroughly before swallowing.

 

There’s no way he’s letting garlic bread kill him again.

 

“She sounds intense,” Evan says, before finishing the last of his slice of margherita pizza. Connor hands him a napkin and watches as Evan wipes the grease of his fingers. “She, uh… why does she want me to come to dinner with you guys, anyway?”

 

Connor shrugs, trying to look like he wasn’t wondering the same thing. “I mean, she’s heard about you,” he finds himself saying. “Of course she’s heard about you. You’re my best friend.”

 

Evan’s reaching for a piece of cheesy garlic bread but stops in his tracks and goes bright red.

 

Connor feels the weird urge to apologize because Evan just looks so fucking uncomfortable and it’s a whole thing, but instead he just blurts out something else. “I mean, I guess she probably just wants to make sure you’re real. It’s not like I exactly had friends growing up, you know? She’s, like, ridiculously happy that I have… someone. Like, a real friend.”

 

Evan looks at him, his expression hard to read. “You have Andi,” he says, his voice gentler than Connor expects. “And your friends I met at the party - Margot and Eddie, right?”

 

“It’s not the same,” Connor says, and the words kind of spill out without him really meaning to. “It’s… it’s not the same. You’re…”

 

_You’re more important_ , he wants to say.

 

_You mean more to me_ , he wants to say.

 

_You understand something that I can never talk to anyone else about. We’ve been through things together that no one else can ever know, we’re connected in a way that I can’t even begin to explain, and while I still have no fucking clue what happened to us and why it happened, I can’t think of anyone else on the planet I’d rather than gone through it with._

 

“You’re my best friend,” he says instead.

 

Evan kind of laughs a little, and opens and closes his mouth a few times, then takes another piece of pizza and shoves it in his mouth like chewing it is going to give him an answer.

 

Connor shrugs, like he’s trying to make the whole thing less weird, and takes the last slice of pepperoni. Just as he’s taking a bite, Evan finally responds.

 

“Same,” he says, his voice a little hesitant. “You’re my best friend, too.”

 

There is a lot more that Connor could say, but instead he just nods and finishes his pizza.

 

* * *

 

Zoe seems... off at their regular coffee date a few weeks after their mom’s visit New York. Connor’s not sure what’s going on, and he’s almost afraid to ask, but eventually Zoe speaks up.

 

“Dad’s in town,” she says, and her tone is deliberately even. She frowns a little. “We, uh, we had dinner last night. It was… weird.”

 

“What happened?” Connor asks, and Zoe sighs and has a sip of her coffee.

 

“So we hadn’t really talked since February?” she says, nodding to herself a little. “I mean, he called a few weeks after Craig proposed, being all ‘so do you have something to tell me?’ and I had to be like ‘I’m not marrying Craig, Dad’ and he was… kind of a dick about it.”

 

“Fuck,” says Connor, who remembers the many, many, many repeating conversations where Zoe had explained how Craig had genuinely called Larry to ask his permission or whatever. “Did he even really know Craig? I can’t remember.”

 

“They met a few times,” Zoe says, and she rolls her eyes. “They got along fine, I guess? I don’t even think it’s about Craig, it’s more that… I don’t know, Dad spent a lot of time last night telling me that I should be thinking about my future and that Craig was a nice man who had a steady job and could provide for me and all that shit?”

 

“Fuck,” Connor says again, rolling his eyes. “Oh my god. The idea that you need a man to provide for you is just the biggest bullshit, oh my god.”

 

“Right?” says Zoe, her eyes darkening. “That’s exactly what I said and then Dad genuinely made a comment about our trust funds, and I just… fuck, I’m just so pissed off.” She sighs. “So I get that we grew up with… a lot. Compared to some people I know, a ridiculous amount, honestly. And I get that our trust funds are kind of insane and that Dad paid for college for both of us, at least for our undergrad, but I’ve paid my way through grad school myself, and I’ve barely touched my trust fund at all. And now I’ve graduated and I’m working and I’m making decent money, you know? I’m providing for myself, and… ugh, I just don’t love the fact that Dad insisted on paying for college and set us up with these insane trust funds and then feels like he’s got the right to hold it over our heads? It’s.. it’s bullshit.”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, something twisting in his stomach, because while he hasn’t touched his trust fund much, he’s about to use it to buy a business.

 

“I mean, it’s not like he can un-pay for college,” Zoe continues, sighing. “And now that we’re over 25, the money in our trust funds is legally ours. Legally speaking, he can’t take anything away from us. So it’s not like he can do anything if he’s not happy with the way we’re living our lives, because we’re not dependent on him, but the fact that he thinks he gets a say because of something we never asked for is just… I hate it.”

 

“Does he… does he know about the bookstore?” Connor asks slowly, and a flash of guilt comes over Zoe’s face.

 

“Yeah,” she says, and she sounds so apologetic. “Mom told him when they last talked, because apparently they still talk or whatever, and then when he asked me if it was still going ahead last night, I told him that you had it all under control.” She winces. “Expect a call from him. He’s in town for the rest of the week and wants to talk to you about it.” Zoe bites her lip and continues. “He’s especially interested in your legal counsel.”

 

“Fuck,” says Connor, and he’s genuinely concerned now, because… “Fuck, Zo… you know how Dad is, he’s going to be a total fucking asshole if he meets Evan, and Evan… fuck. No one deserves the way Dad treats people but least of all Evan with his anxiety. This is… no, that’s not happening. There’s no fucking reason for it, Dad can’t... Dad has nothing to do with this, and he doesn’t need to meet Evan, that’s…”

 

“I may have accidentally dropped his name,” Zoe says guiltily. “And Dad knows basically everyone in the legal profession in New York. He’s probably already tracked him down, you know what Dad’s like.” She sighs. “Look, we could… I could call him, and we could do dinner? Me and you and Dad and Evan? Obviously run it by Evan, but… fuck, it’s better than Dad just showing up at his office and asking him a bunch of questions.”

 

“This is bullshit,” Connor says, feeling the hot sting of anger in his chest. “This is… fuck this, it’s got… fuck this.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Zoe begins, and Connor cuts her off.

 

“Not your fault,” he tells her firmly. “Dad’s just… fuck. Okay. I’ll talk to Evan, and we’ll get this whole thing over and done with as soon as we can, okay?”

 

Connor takes a long lunch break on Wednesday and heads to Evan’s work to bring him pad thai, because he knows his friend isn’t going to like this and he may as well soften the blow with food. When he arrives at Evan’s office, Evan is hard at work going over a document that makes zero sense to Connor. Evan looks up and smiles at him, a genuine smile that makes it look like he’s pleased to see him, and Connor’s still getting used to that - the idea that he has someone is almost always pleased to see him.

 

“I brought pad thai,” Connor announces, and he takes a seat on the edge of Evan’s desk and pulls out a plastic container of thai food and a plastic fork and hands it to Evan, then takes one himself and digs in.

 

“I was genuinely thinking about Thai food this morning,” Evan confesses with a smile. He looks good. Less tired than he has recently, and definitely less tired than he was after that conference, which Connor’s glad to see. He worries that Evan works too hard, and he’ll probably never stop worrying, but at least his friend is looking much healthier than he was a few months ago.

 

And, like the asshole he is, Connor’s about to stress him out.

 

“So,” Connor says, and he knows he sounds nervous but can’t quite get his voice even, “are you free for dinner on Friday night?”

 

Evan quirks an eyebrow and laughs. “Are you asking me out?”

 

Connor feels his ears turning pink at that, and there’s a part of him that wishes he was. “My dad’s in town,” he says, trying not to sound as disgusted as he feels at the idea. “And he’s… well, he’s not thrilled about this whole ‘me buying a bookstore’ thing, especially since I’m using my trust fund, and he wants to talk to my legal counsel to make sure I’m not, you know, completely fucking it up, so… come to dinner on Friday night?”

 

Evan’s staring at him, eyes wide and face pale. “Isn’t your dad a lawyer?” he asks, sounding more than a little taken aback.

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, sighing. “He’s… look, he’s being an asshole, he’s trying to… mostly he just wants to sit there and judge me and my life choices, and I hate that I’ve got you wrapped up in it, I really do, but Zoe accidentally mentioned your name and my dad knows pretty much every law firm in New York and he’s the kind of asshole who’d just track you down and show up to interrogate you at work if I refused to bring you to dinner, so… I know this sucks but it is honestly the lesser of two evils.” He tries to smile at Evan. “And Zoe’s going to be there as an extra buffer, and she said she’s going to keep the focus off you as much as possible because she feels bad, and if he’s a total asshole I’ll just make some dumbass excuse and we’ll leave, okay?”

 

Evan’s starting to look genuinely terrified now and Connor hates it so fucking much. “I really don’t want him to just show up here,” he says, his voice shaking a little. “I… fuck. Okay. You’re right, dinner is a much better option.” He audibly swallows, then nods. “I… I can be free on Friday night. Let me know where and when.”

 

“Zoe texted,” Connor says, trying to sound positive. “So we’re meeting at 7pm at a restaurant near his hotel, I’ll text you the address. Leslie’s going to close the store so I can leave early, I could meet you at work and we could go in together?”

 

“Okay,” says Evan, who does not look any less freaked. “Okay, that’s… yeah, that sounds good.” He bites his lip. “What does your dad know about me, exactly?”

 

“That you sat the bar in February,” Connor admits. “And that you got hired almost immediately after getting your results, which Zoe said he did say was impressive.” He winces. “Zoe, uh, also said that apparently he knows where you work now and said that it was… reputable or whatever, so… so far, so good.”

 

“Sure,” Evan mumbles, looking at his pad thai, face growing increasingly pale. “Yeah, okay, I… I’ll look over that paperwork for the store again and make sure I’m prepared.”

 

“I’m not going to let him interrogate you,” Connor promises. “I’m really fucking sorry we even have to do this, it just seemed like the path of least resistance. And once he’s met you, maybe he’ll calm the fuck down about all of this.”

 

“He doesn’t want you to buy the bookstore?” Evan asks, looking at Connor and frowning a little. “Does he know anything about it? I mean, you’re buying a business that’s established and has been successful for nearly 30 years, and it’s an industry you know a lot about, so you’ve got a huge amount of product knowledge for what you’ll be selling. And you’re working with the current owners for a full year before taking over, which is almost like an apprenticeship model, which is a great way to build trust with your customer base. By the time you take over officially, they’ll already know who you are. And you’re not just buying the business, you’re also buying the building, which includes an apartment, and… real estate in New York City just keeps increasing in value, what Gladys and Martha have asked in terms of money for the building is basically nothing compared to what it could be worth. Whatever way you slice it, this is a really good investment, Connor. And if your dad’s as bigshot a lawyer as he obviously thinks he is, he should be able to see that.”

 

Connor can’t help but grin. “See? You’re already kicking his ass.”

 

Evan turns a little pink. “I can say that to you,” he says, his face falling a little. “You know all of this. But… you know I’m not great with people, and your dad? I mean, it’s weird enough meeting your dad, but knowing that your dad is a lawyer and knows a lot of people in the city, it’s just… it’s really intimidating.”

 

“I’m really fucking sorry,” Connor says immediately. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this, it’s bullshit and it’s my fault and I’m sorry.” He frowns. “I could… I could just hire someone? Make some random lawyer deal with Larry’s assholery. If you really don’t want to do this, you don’t-”

 

“I said I’d help you with this,” Evan interrupts firmly. “I said I’d help you with the legal side of buying a business back when you were just thinking about it, I’m not backing out now.” He offers Connor a smile that’s not quite at full strength but still feels real. “I’m with you on this, Connor. I believe in you and I’m not backing down just because your dad’s being an asshole.”

 

Connor can feel this tightening in his chest, this warm fuzzy feeling, and he can’t help but smile, because Evan is just so fucking great, he’s smart and he’s kind and he’s selfless and he wants to help Connor, and that’s not something Connor’s used to.

 

Part of Connor wishes they’d connected properly in high school. He could have had this amazing person in his life ten years ago, he could have…

 

They both could have helped each other, he suspects.

 

Or maybe back then they just weren’t ready for each other.

 

At any rate, he’s glad he has Evan in his life now.

 

* * *

Evan’s new work friend Mariah offered to sell him a Valium on his lunch and he had to pitifully explain that 1. He had his own, thanks and 2. He’d already taken one and if he took another he would be a zombie for this dinner he was attending and 3. Oh yeah, casually his best friend’s father was in town to interrogate Evan and he happened to be Larry Fucking Murphy.

“Larry Murphy?” Mariah repeated.

“I know.”

“Like, _Larry Murphy_ -Larry Murphy.”

“I dunno, I suppose there could be others, it’s a pretty boring white dude name but, _yes,_ that Larry Murphy.”

“I heard he made a judge cry once,” Mariah said. “Asher saw him in court when he was an L2 and - HEY ASHER!”

Asher popped his head into Evan’s office. “Yo.”

“Evan’s having dinner with Larry Murphy tonight.”

“Holy shit,” Asher said. “ _Why_?”

Evan swallowed hard. “I’m friends with his son and I looked over some contracts for Connor and now his dad wants to meet me.”

Asher’s eyes went wide. “Fuck no man you need to get out of that. You need to fake explosive diarrhea or something because he’s going to eat you alive. I saw him bring up a suit against the MTA about some zoning regulations and win. Against MTA!”

“So, just a thought here but… you’re all terrible and this did not help at all,” Evan said as blandly as he could manage while also searching online for anything on that MTA case.

“Can I have your office when you die?” Asher asked. “Your view is better.”

Mariah rolled her eyes. “His view meaning Charles’s ass.”

“He was doing squats the other day,” Evan noted and Asher’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t not look man, I face directly into his office!”

“Ugh, move your desk then,” Asher said, rolling his eyes.

Asher took off and Mariah announced that Evan should probably just risk taking another Valium. “I think you might need it.”

Mariah was no longer Evan’s favorite coworker.

He did his best to keep focused on his work that day but his brain seemed incapable of tuning into the correct station. Instead it was full of static, other, louder and more anxious thoughts breaking through some of the time to derail his concentration and send him back to his phone where he had already sent four “ _Okay but seriously how bad is this going to be?_ ” texts to Connor.

Evan didn’t do well with new people. Established lawyers were already really fucking intimidating but mostly Evan just… didn’t do dads? Like meeting Sabrina’s dad was about the only thing he had to compare this trial-by-fire he was apparently going into and Sabrina’s dad was like… an Indian Santa Claus who was really, really nice and really liked gardening and Evan was like, interested in plant biology so they like… talked about zucchini.

Evan doubted very much that Larry Murphy was going to want to make casual conversation about zucchini. And Evan didn’t know what other dads talked about. Like his own dad was somewhere in Colorado, probably smoking weed or fishing or generally not parenting Evan’s half sister. And Evan wasn’t really into sports, so if he was basing this on television, he couldn’t exactly talk sports with Larry. What would he fucking say, “So hey the Yankees… are a team?”

Fuck.

* * *

Connor kept his word and picked Evan up at his office about six thirty on Friday. Evan, for his part, was pressing a Kleenex to his cuticle because he had bitten it to bleeding while he rode the elevator down to meet Connor.

Connor was waiting in the lobby. He looked nice. He had on a blazer that fit him well and his hair was tied up and he looked really, really good.

“You good?” Connor asked Evan when he stepped off the elevator.

“Fine,” He lied, pulling the tissue away from his bleeding finger and wishing he hadn’t because it meant that he managed to get blood on his fucking tie. “Fuck.”

“It’s fine,” Connor said calmly. “I brought a stain stick.”

Evan looked at him, confused, because those were not Connor Murphy words, those were mom words or Zoe words but not Connor words.

“My dad’s always on me to look ‘presentable,’” Connor explained as he handed the stick over to Evan.

Evan nodded vaguely, using the stain stick on his tie and praying it would dry before they got to the restaurant. “Got any last minute tips for me?” Evan asked, pleading a little. “Mariah heard that your dad made a judge cry once.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Connor said, flinching a bit. “Just. Uh. Do you know anything about baseball?”

“I grew up with a single mom whose favorite sport is bar darts! No!”

“Okay then… Just. Uh. Relax?”

“Seriously?” Evan said.

“I’m sorry, you’re making me nervous.”

“You are not helping,” Evan growled, stuffing his bloody Kleenex into his pants pocket.  As they rounded the corner, Zoe met them, her hair pulled back into a very serious looking bun, and she was frowning.

“Okay, so, don’t freak out -”  
Not a great lead in, Evan had to say.

“But dad’s on his second drink already,” Zoe said.

“Shit,” Connor said.

“I think we just need to go in and rip off the bandaid,” Zoe said. “We just go in, let dad beat his chest and try to prove he knows more, eat and get out.”

“Evan,” Zoe said, taking him by the shoulders and looking at him with an extremely serious face. “Do not let him torture you. If he’s being a dick, tell him to back off. It’s the only way he’ll respect you.”

Evan thought he might pass out.

“I’m really sorry again,” Connor said quietly as they walked into the restaurant and Evan became hyper-aware of his surroundings. From the crisp linen tablecloths he could see through the window to the leather backed chairs at the bar, this place was not somewhere Evan could afford to be. He should have taken Asher’s advice and faked sick, he should have written an email to Mr. Murphy because that would be less uncomfortable and Evan thought better on paper than he did on his feet.

Fuck.

Zoe led the way inside, walking straight to Larry Murphy and saying, “Look who I found.”

Mr. Murphy stood up and smiled. “Connor. Nice to see you made an effort today,” He said in this very pleasant tone extending a hand and then Connor shook his dad’s hand like that was a normal way to interact with a parent. Evan didn’t like his dad, didn’t see him often because he didn’t like him, but he still hugged the guy whenever they had the misfortune to be in the same room together. He didn’t shake hands like this was some kind of transaction.

What the fuck.

“And you must be Evan,” Larry said, smiling in a way that made his eyes crinkle but it didn’t soften him. In fact it made Evan audibly gulp and as he shook hands with Mr. Murphy he knew his were clammy and cold and he basically flubbed the handshake by trying hard not to be too firm and the end result was limp and cold and fuck. “So nice to finally meet you,” Mr. Murphy said in a way that made Evan’s stomach flip.

Pack it in, boys, the evening might as well be over. “N-nice to meet you as well, Mr. Murphy,” Evan said, trying to smile. The fucking stuttering killed him. It was an anxiety thing, but it landed him in three years of speech therapy at school and it only showed up when he was especially nervous and he Hated It but especially now when he actually needed to have his shit together.

“Please, call me Larry.”

Evan didn’t think that would be possible.

A host appeared to say that their table was ready and Zoe took the lead again, asking her dad something about… Evan honestly wasn’t even listening, he was just sitting there feeling grateful that the restaurant’s air conditioner was turned up too high so he would be able to keep his suit jacket on during dinner and not reveal that he had basically sweated through his white button down.

“You’re doing fine,” Connor said to him quietly.

Evan nodded at him, feeling a little less shaky. “Thanks.”

They had a seat and Larry announced, barely glancing at the menu, that he planned to order white wine for the table. Evan noticed that Zoe and Connor kept their eyes fixed on their menus, both murmuring their agreement and not making eye contact. Evan wanted to mimic that but he was a guest here, this was not his family, so he smiled and sort of nodded even though Evan sort of hated white wine because it was too acidic.

Evan cracked open his menu and then immediately wished he hadn’t. He knew this place was nice, but the least expensive thing on the menu was a twenty seven dollar garden salad and Evan didn’t want to just assume that he was being treated to dinner but if he was he needed to find something that was middle of the road, price wise, something he could potentially pay for and not, like, miss rent because of later this month. Also there was just… so much shellfish. So much.

Mr. Murphy was rude to their waiter when he came by to take their drink order. He literally shooed the waiter away from the table when he returned with their wine and Evan really fucking hated people who were rude to waiters. His mom had waited tables as a second job for a bit when Evan was little and his dad had been briefly out of work. She said it was the most demeaning job she had ever had, forced to smile and be polite even to the rudest of people to make sure she managed to squeeze a fifteen perfect tip out of them.

“I’m getting this,” Connor said to Evan sort of quietly, indicating a pasta dish. “I think you might like that,” he went on, pointing to another right below it.

“Okay,” Evan said because, thank god, okay.

When it came time to order, Evan parroted whatever it was Connor had suggested to the waiter with a “please” and a “thank you so much” peppered in.

“And for your salad?”

Fuck, he hadn’t known there was a salad, he had been rehearsing this bit of the order in his head, shit shit shit. “Salad?” He choked out.

“Yes, what sort of dressing?”

At that moment it was as if Evan’s entire mind blanked out the existence of salad dressing. What did you put on a fucking salad? He didn’t like… the white ones. Fuck, fuck, “Uh,” Evan said to fill the space, and his face was too hot and his hair was damp with sweat in the back. He swallowed, tried to force his brain to think, to just say fucking anything and end this interaction.

“I’m having the vinegarette,” Connor said, a bit loudly, which was odd seeing as he had not yet ordered his food.

“Connor,” Mr. Murphy said, rolling his eyes,  “Don’t be rude.”

“That sounds… I’ll do that, thanks,” Evan said, definitely not at all covering himself but smiling gratefully at Connor nonetheless. The waiter seemed satisfied and moved on and Evan tried to decide if he could get away with taking a Valium at the table because he was making himself look like a very sweaty, very nervous joke.

Their wine poured and orders taken, Mr. Murphy settled into his seat and smiled. “So. Evan. Environmental law?”

“Yes sir,” Evan said and mercifully his voice didn’t crack or squeak.

“Not a lot of money in that…” Larry went on. “Obviously.”

Evan froze. He didn’t know what exactly about him stunk so badly of being poor that it was clear from less than half a conversation. He did his best to paste on a smile and push through, saying, his voice shaking a bit, “Well I’m not really in it for money. I’m more concerned about people who get away with destroying our planet.”

“And you went to NYU, is that right?”

“I did,” Evan said, nodding.

“I saw that you interned for Richard McLaren. Impressive. Richard’s a big name in your field.”

Connor’s eyes got really big, and Zoe cast her father an annoyed look.

“You’ve done your research,” Evan said with a half nervous laugh before answering as diplomatically as he could manage. “I learned a lot from working with him.”

“And you passed the bar on your first try.”

“Yes,” Evan answered.

“Most people have to sit it a second time.”

“I know,” Evan said, trying hard to smile. “Connor tells me you sat it twice.”

Beside him, Connor choked on his wine.

He wanted to take the words back because fuck. Evan had no fucking idea what the fuck was wrong with him saying that, what was his issue, did he have a fucking death wish? Actually a death wish might be helpful at that moment because then he might wake up in his bathroom and not have said something really fucking rude to Connor’s father.

Zoe cleared her throat. “This is a lot of business talk before we’ve even had our food-”

“Well that’s the whole reason for this little dinner isn’t it, Zoe? So I can get to know Connor’s business plan, right? That means getting to know his lawyer.”

Evan watched as Connor drained his wine glass entirely. “We might need a second bottle,” He said as he reached for the first.

Mr. Murphy appeared to just… ignore Connor. Instead, he turned his eyes back to Evan. “You did your undergrad at Ohio State?”

“I did,” Evan said, nodding. “And you did yours at Dartmouth. Law school at Cornell.”

“And Connor went to Columbia and my undergrad was Stanford,” Zoe said, cutting across them. “We all went to college. Well done us, white people going to school. Can we please -?”

“I just find it interesting that Evan attended a state school is all,” Larry went on. “And community college.”

Evan’s face flamed. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that his first year out of high school he had worked full time to save up for college or that he had fulfilled a lot of his gen eds with AP classes and some credits he earned at the local community college. He wasn’t ashamed of that but Mr. Murphy seemed to think he ought to be and that made Evan’s blood boil. “Yes. I did. Would you care to see my report cards from before I transferred?” What the fuck was the matter with him, his brain was screaming at him but it was like his mouth was out of his control, he just kept saying shit.

“I’m sure you performed well enough, seeing as you got into the prestigious Ohio State.”

Evan ground his teeth together, trying to smile, because Ohio State was a fine fucking school. Connor’s hand bumped quickly against Evan’s knee and something about that was grounding, it reminded Evan to breathe.

Their salads arrived and Larry changed tactics. “So, Connor, have you reconsidered business school?”

“What?” Connor said, his mouth still full. “No?”

“I just thought, seeing as you’ve decided to become a small business owner, that you might consider taking the time to learn what you’re doing.”

“Actually, research shows that professional apprenticeships do a better job of preparing people for the work they intend to do,” Evan volunteered, just cramming his foot into his mouth more. “Versus more schooling, that is. And, for the most part, most clinical and professional degrees already follow that model and build an apprenticeship into the program. Like Zoe’s psych program, for example. Or law school. Basically, Connor’s cutting out the middleman by shadowing Gladys while he manages the store. Plus having a literature degree means he has a really sturdy foundation of knowledge of the product and the market already.”

Connor and Zoe both looked at Evan a bit wide eyed, and he realized he had said more than he’d meant to. “I just. Connor’s plan is actually very much evidence based.”

“And you’re an expert in running a small business, are you?” Mr. Murphy was being outright hostile.

“No,” Evan said. “But Gladys and Martha have managed to keep an independent bookstore operational and mostly profitable for thirty years, while competing against the Amazons and Barnes and Nobles of the world. I suspect that they might be.”

Larry stabbed at a cucumber in his salad very aggressively and Connor shot Evan a big smile. Zoe, still playing interference, started talking about her job. And Evan was really grateful to her for that because it gave him time to catch his breath, because he knew this was not the end of his cross examination by Larry, but he at least wanted to drink a little bit of wine first.

 

* * *

 

Connor honestly has to fight the urge to hold Evan’s hand the entire meal, which is a weird thought he’s not going to dive into that much, but it doesn’t mean it’s not persistent. He still feels like an absolute jerk for having somehow trapped Evan in this situation, this awkward situation where he’s stuck having dinner with Connor’s asshole father who’s basically treating the whole thing like a lawyer dick-measuring contest, but…

 

Fucking hell, Evan’s definitely come out swinging.

 

Connor can tell as the dinner continues that Zoe is genuinely impressed at how well prepared Evan is for any and all of Larry’s questions. Connor can tell that Evan is nervous, really fucking nervous, slightly shaking nervous - but he’s basically taking everything Larry says and coming up with a response that, while polite and matter-of-fact, is _just_ this side of snarky.

 

Maybe there’s a class on that whole backhanded compliment, polite but still vicious thing in law school.

 

The whole thing is like watching a tennis match between a seasoned professional and a well prepared young, scrappy upstart when you placed your bets on the upstart and you realize that the payout when he kicks the professional’s ass is going to be huge.

 

Zoe’s still talking about her work when the main meals arrive and Larry seems to take it as an opportunity to turn the focus back on Evan.

 

“There’s a lot more to running a business than just following the owner around. Have you thought about insurance? You’ll need general liability and property insurance, not to mention-”

 

“Worker’s Compensation Insurance?” Evan interrupts with a polite smile. “New York is one of the states where that’s a legal requirement, so yes, that’s something to consider. I’ve spoken with Gladys and Martha’s lawyer about what they’ve negotiated with their current insurance company, which is competitive but obviously it’s best to consider all options. I’ve got a dozen or so quotes and contracts I’m comparing at the moment. We’re still weighing things up.”

 

“It’s important to get things right when it comes to insurance,” Larry continues, the only indication that he hates being interrupted a slight twitch in his eye that Connor only notices because he has been responsible for it for over twenty years. “Small businesses tend to cut corners or just don’t read the contracts properly.”

 

“We’re taking our time with it,” Connor jumps in, because this is actually something he knows about. “We won’t be making a decision on insurance until we’re absolutely sure.”

 

“Given that the official takeover date isn’t for another year,” Evan says, slicing a piece of ravioli in half, “I’d say Connor has time to read a contract properly.”

 

Larry very rudely flags down a waiter to order more wine, and Connor helps himself to another glass because this whole thing is stressing him out and being drunk seems like the smartest move right now.

 

And then, out of the blue, Evan smiles and looks at Larry. “I’ve done some research on some of your cases,” he says, casually, like he’s making conversation. “I was particularly interested in one from a few years ago. You were representing a large insurance company against a small, independently owned childcare center. I’d love to hear more about it.”

 

Larry’s eyes widen for a split second, and then the professional mask is back on, and he launches into a brief recap of a case where he apparently helped an insurance company not only not pay out for a childcare center’s insurance claim over something completely ridiculous, but also managed to help the company sue the center for defamation. Zoe’s looking more and more horrified as the story continues and Evan’s asking occasional clarifying questions that are just making Larry look like even more of an asshole, and Connor kind of wants popcorn.

 

His dad is such a fucking dick.

 

To his credit, Larry doesn’t look visibly ashamed, although Connor thinks he sees something in his eyes when Zoe, in a tight voice, mentions that she’d heard about that case, given her work in child psychology. “The law is the law,” Larry says, like it’s some kind of great, wise saying. “A good lawyer knows how to find holes. Read between the lines.” Zoe’s still looking at him like he just drop-kicked a baby, and Larry lets out an only slightly awkward chuckle. “It’s business.”

 

When they finish their main meals, no one wants to look at the dessert menu, which is fair enough because Connor honestly wants to get out of here as soon as possible. But then Larry’s ordering another bottle of wine, and asking more questions about the bookstore, and Evan holds up well but excuses himself to go to the bathroom after a few and Connor resists the urge to go with him. A moment later, Zoe gets a phone call, looks at Connor apologetically and goes outside to take it.

 

And then it’s just Connor and his dad.

 

Fuck.

 

“You know,” says Larry, “business school is still on the table. Your track record at Columbia was above average at the end, considering everything.”

 

Connor’s not going to rise to the bait on that one. “Yeah, well, you heard what Evan said about research,” he says, looking his father straight in the eye. “Can’t argue with research, now, can we?”

 

Larry pours himself more wine. Connor downs his glass, then takes the bottle from his father and pours himself a refill, because the sooner this bottle of wine is finished, the sooner he can go home.

 

“Your lawyer friend is a nervous wreck, but at least he seems to know what he’s doing,” Larry says, and the expression on his face is close to a sneer. “I’m still not convinced that you do.”

 

There’s a weird, cold feeling in Connor’s stomach at his father’s words. He’s about to tell his dad to go fuck himself when Evan’s back at the table, looking considerably calmer, and Connor thinks that maybe he might have taken a Valium in the bathroom, which he honestly wouldn’t blame him for.

 

If that’s the case, though, then mixing it with more wine is probably a bad move.

 

Evan pours himself a glass of water and drinks it in one go. Connor can see that there’s sweat on the back of his neck, and he hates that he’s this nervous. Hates that he’s this stressed, this uncomfortable, because it’s Connor’s fault and Connor never wants to be the cause of Evan’s anxiety.

 

“So how long are you in town, Larry?” Connor asks, realizing that that’s one topic they haven’t actually discussed.

 

“I fly out tomorrow morning,” he says, before finishing his glass of wine.

 

“Then I suppose we’d better let you get some sleep,” Connor says, noting with some satisfaction that the wine bottle is empty and that Zoe has just returned to the table.

 

“That was my roommate,” Zoe says, sounding annoyed. “She’s locked herself out of the apartment, so I have to go.”

 

“Perfect timing,” says Connor with a smile. “Well, it was nice to see you.” With that, he stands up, and Evan stands up, too, and Zoe stands up and hugs their dad and Larry doesn’t even bother offering Connor a handshake, he just nods and tells Evan it was nice to meet him and Evan replies and Connor ushers him out of the restaurant and into a cab as quickly as he can.

 

Evan closes his eyes and leans his head against the seat and Connor takes a moment to give the taxi driver Evan’s address, before turning to his friend, who’s looking pale and freaked out.

 

“That was a fucking nightmare,” says Evan, his voice shaking. “I… fuck, I made a complete idiot of myself.”

 

“You really didn’t,” Connor tells him. “You… fuck. You held your own. You really fucking held your own. My dad is an asshole, I’m so… I’m so fucking sorry.”

 

Evan’s eyes are still closed, and they stay closed for the majority of the ride back to his apartment. Connor pays for the taxi and helps Evan up the stairs to his apartment and then comes in with him, not quite ready to leave his friend just yet.

 

He makes two cups of peppermint tea and Evan sits at the kitchen island and looks a little nauseated. “We left your dad with the bill, oh my god, that’s so rude.”

 

“He would have paid anyway,” Connor assures him. “He was pretty drunk by the end of it. He probably drank an entire bottle of wine during that story about fucking over a daycare.”

 

“Oh god, I can’t believe I brought that up,” says Evan, holding onto his cup for dear life. “And that I mentioned that he had to sit the bar twice. Oh my god, that was so rude, I was so rude to him-”

 

“You impressed him,” Connor tells him.

 

Evan shakes his head and laughs a little. “I doubt it. I was a wreck the whole fucking time, and I took a Valium in the bathroom after and now I’m kinda… I took one earlier today, and there was… a lot of wine, and mixing the two was probably a bad idea… I fucked it all up.”

 

“You did not fuck it up,” Connor says firmly. He puts his hand on Evan’s shoulder. “You didn’t. When you were in the bathroom and Zoe left to talk to her roommate, he told me that you seemed to know what you were doing. From Larry Murphy, that’s high praise.”

 

Connor doesn’t mention what his dad said after that.


	7. September (Seven Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My best friend is a Slytherin."

Connor and Gladys are just wrapping up their monthly catch-up at a cafe around the corner from The Little Book Nook when Gladys very casually mentions that the apartment’s ready.

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“We had cleaners in over the weekend,” Gladys says, very matter-of-factly. “The place is all ready to go. You can move in whenever you want.”

 

“That’s… wow, okay.”

 

“There’s no rush,” Gladys assures him. “It’s really up to you, whenever you want to make the move.”

 

“I’ll talk to my roommate,” Connor tells Gladys. “I don’t want to just… leave her frantically searching for someone to replace me, if that’s what she needs to do.”

 

He doesn’t mention that Andi’s parents actually own the apartment he and Andi live in and as a result, charge them much less than they probably should and that if he suddenly moved out, Andi’s parents would probably cover it.

 

Honestly, Connor’s genuinely convinced that the only reason Andi even has a roommate is because she likes the company.

 

When he gets home that night, Andi is creating some kind of huge… thing in the living room, and Connor can barely get through the front door. She’s covered in what looks like glue and she’s only wearing a pair of panties and there’s a paintbrush in her afro.

 

“Sorry about the mess,” she says distractedly. “I know, I know, it’s all over the place.”

 

It feels weirdly like an opening. “Do you need more space?” he asks point blank.

 

Andi looks at him and her eyes widen. “Is the apartment over the bookstore ready for you?”

 

“Yeah,” he says with a nod. “Gladys just told me.”

 

Andi looks… conflicted. She wipes her hands on her bare legs. “Fuck. I mean, on one hand, I’m going to fucking miss you so much if you move out. But on the other hand… your room would make a great studio. It gets such good light. And I have this gallery thing coming up in a couple of weeks and it would be so good to have somewhere to work…”

 

“I can move any time you need me too,” Connor tells her, and there’s this weird feeling in his head, like everything’s electrically charged, and he can feel that everything’s changing. “And just because we won’t be living together anymore doesn’t mean we’ll never see each other. Come on.”

 

“Obviously,” says Andi, and she’s sniffling and Connor’s suddenly worried she’s about to burst into tears. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

 

With that, Andi’s pulling him into a tight, glue-soaked hug, and he lets her hold onto him for a very long time. When they finally come apart, Andi’s definitely teary-eyed.

 

“So what do you think, timewise?” Connor asks gently.

 

Andi winces a little. “I don’t want to say as soon as you can, but… as soon as you can would be great.”

 

“I’ll start packing,” says Connor with a nod.

 

“I’ll buy wine and make garlic bread,” says Andi. With that, she’s heading to the kitchen, and Connor heads to his room and looks around.

 

He doesn’t have a ton of stuff. Not really. He’s got a desk, and a bedside table, and a bookshelf, and a bed that’s seen better days. The mattress is worn out and there’s a crack in the frame that he became aware of sometime in July when Evan came over and they had sex three times in one night.

 

Evan had been so fucking embarrassed when he’d realized they’d genuinely broken the bed, even though it wasn’t, like, destroyed, it was just… a little worse for wear. Nothing a little duct tape couldn’t solve.

 

Still, Connor feels like if he’s going to move into a new apartment, then maybe he should get a new bed while he’s at it. There doesn’t seem much point in moving a broken bed in if he’s just going to have to replace it.

 

He has no idea how to buy a bed. What you even look for in buying a bed.

 

This is a very weird, very adult thing and he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing.

 

He picks up his phone and calls Evan, who answers on the third ring. “Hey.”

 

“Do you know anything about buying beds?”

 

Connor can hear Evan frown over the phone. “Fuck. Did your bed, like, completely break? Shit. I’m so sorry. Oh my god.”

 

“It’s still hanging in there, don’t worry,” Connor assures him. “But, uh… the apartment over the bookstore is ready? I can move in anytime and… well, Andi has a gallery thing coming up and she kind of wants my room, and I feel like there’s no point in moving this bed because it’s garbage anyway and I bought it off Craigslist when I moved in for like, twenty dollars, so… I should be an adult and buy a goddamn bed.”

 

Evan’s quiet for a moment. “You called me for advice about being an adult?”

 

“You’re a lawyer.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I know what I’m doing!”

 

“Right,” says Connor, feeling more than a little awkward now. He kind of wants to ask Evan if he wants to go bed shopping with him, because honestly, Evan does get a decent amount of use out of his bed, let’s be honest. But he’s pretty sure that if he says anything, Evan’s going to freak the fuck out, because bed shopping is way, way too relationshippy and Evan and Connor are not in a relationship. “I wonder if Zoe bought a bed in, like, a store, rather than on Craigslist.”

 

Connor can hear the ‘oh thank fuck’ in Evan’s voice when he replies. “She seems like the kind of person who would have bought a bed in a store.”

 

“It’s probably ergonomic or some such.”

 

“Is ergonomic a bed word or a keyboard word?” Evan asks.

 

“I don’t know,” Connor admits. “I mean, I know it’s a keyboard thing. There are ergonomic keyboards, right? I should really ask Zoe.”

 

“Or you could Google it.”

 

“Ugh.”

 

Evan laughs. “So wait, hang on - you’re moving? When?”

 

“As soon as I can,” Connor says. He puts Evan on speakerphone, confident there’s no one else in the room, and starts looking around the room. “I’m, like, genuinely about to start packing. I should hire movers or something. Fuck.”

 

“Wow,” Evan says, and he sounds a little taken aback. “That’s… wow, that’s quick, that’s… that’s a lot. What about Andi?”

 

“She needs the space for a studio.”

 

“Right.” Evan’s quiet for a moment. “Wait, you’re moving into a whole new apartment by yourself? Do you have anything… apartment-y? At all?”

 

Connor shrugs, even though he knows Evan can’t see him. “I mean, I have some shot glasses.”

 

“Connor. Be serious.”

 

“I’ll figure it out. It can’t be that hard.” He remembers something. “Actually, my mom said she made a list when she moved out after she and my dad split. I should see if I can get a copy.”

 

There’s a moment of silence. “Why didn’t you just call your mom in the first place?” Evan asks.

 

 _Because I always want to talk to you,_ Connor thinks but doesn’t say.

 

“If I call my mom, she’s going to go overboard,” Connor says with a sigh. “Before you know it, I’ll own a chopping board that’s only for cheeses and, like, tiny forks. I don’t even know what the tiny forks are for.”

 

“Shrimp cocktail, I think.”

 

“You’re Jewish.”

 

“Yes, Connor, I’m aware that I am Jewish.”

 

Connor grins and pulls a suitcase out of his closet. “I thought that Jews didn’t eat shrimp.”

 

“It doesn’t mean I don’t know what shrimp _are.”_ There’s a pause as Connor puts the suitcase on his bed. “Do you need help packing?”

 

“Maybe?” Connor guesses, looking around. “I don’t know. Probably not, actually. It’s… I don’t have a lot of stuff. Mostly what I have are just… books.”

 

“You do have a lot of books.”

 

“I’m going to start moving them in a suitcase,” Connor says, nodding to himself. “It’s got wheels, so I’ll just, like… rolls a suitcase full of books to work, then put the books in the apartment, then bring the suitcase home, and rinse and repeat until the weekend when I can… I don’t know, hire movers or something?”

 

“What do you actually have to move?”

 

“Bookshelf, desk, bedside cabinet.” Connor shrugs. “I guess I can see if Andi wants to make my bed into some kind of installation. I could just, like, sleep on some blankets on the floor for a while.”

 

“Oh my god,” Evan groans. “Connor, no. You’re not doing that.”

 

“I could totally do that.”

 

“I’m not having sex with you on the floor,” Evan says immediately, and then goes quiet, and Connor’s sure he’s embarrassed.

 

He thinks for a moment, then tries to lighten the mood. “You know, all the ads for mattresses are like ‘get a good night’s sleep!’ but none of them ever say ‘this is the best mattress for fucking!’ and I think that’s a missed opportunity for the advertising industry.”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“I’m just saying - what _is_ the best mattress for fucking?” Connor continues with a grin. “What would happen if I went to, like, Mattress Firm and asked?”

 

“I would spontaneously combust. That’s what would happen.”

 

 _Only if you came mattress shopping with me,_ Connor thinks but doesn’t say, because it’s a stupid thought because there’s no way that Evan would ever come mattress shopping with him, even though there’s a very large part of him that wants to ask.

 

The next morning, Connor lugs his suitcase very carefully down the murder stairs, then rolls it to work. It’s harder than he thought it was going to be, and he’s got sore arms when he gets to work. He arrives early so he has time to drop the suitcase in the apartment and unpack the piles of books.

 

He looks around the apartment, trying to make a mental catalogue of what he’ll need. There’s an oven, a fridge/freezer and a washer/dryer, so that’s a good start, and there’s a table in the kitchen Gladys had said he could keep. The living room isn’t huge but there’s enough space that he’d be able to fit a sofa and a couple of chairs. He could even have people around if he felt like it.

 

Not that he really does that, aside from Evan and maybe Zoe, but hey.

 

The kitchen has a good amount of counter space and he looks in the cupboards to see there are a couple of pots and pans that look like they’ve seen better days. Connor assumes Gladys and Martha didn’t want to take them to their new place.

 

The bathroom actually has a bathtub with a shower over it, which unsettles Connor for a long moment. He hasn’t lived anywhere with a bathtub since his attempt in high school, and seeing a bathtub still freaks him out.

 

Still, it might be nice, he thinks, to actually have a relaxing bath at the end of the day.

 

Maybe he can, like, reclaim this whole bath thing.

 

The bedroom gets a nice amount of sun, which is… kind of awesome, actually. The closet has a decent amount of space in it, and in general the whole apartment is clean and tidy and even though it’s small, it doesn’t feel small.

 

He pulls out his phone and texts his mom, asking her for the list of things he’ll need for his new apartment, then puts his phone away and gets the store ready to open for the day.

 

Connor’s on his lunch break around 2 that afternoon when he sees a string of messages from his mother, asking when he’s moving and saying she’s emailed a list. When he sends her back a message to say it’s probably this weekend, she calls.

 

“I’ll come and help you move,” she says, the minute he answers the call.

 

“You don’t have to do that-”

 

“I want to,” she insists, and Connor can hear how proud she is. “It’ll be the first apartment you’ve ever lived at on your own, and you’ll be there for a long time. It’s important to get this right.”

 

Connor wants to argue but feels like it’s pointless. “Do you know anything about buying beds?” he asks, a little awkwardly. “I got my last bed on Craigslist and the frame is kind of broken so I don’t really want to move it into a new place.”

 

It turns out his mom has a wide range of opinions on mattress buying and it takes almost his entire lunch break to discuss them. When they finish talking, she’s managed to convince him he should try to take Friday off so they can go shopping for furniture and she’ll fly in Thursday night. By the end of the day, Leslie has agreed to cover his Friday shift and Connor takes his suitcase back to his soon-to-be-old apartment and fills it with books, ready to do another load the next day.

 

* * *

Looking back, it all happens remarkably quickly.

 

Connor spends Friday with his mom, picking out furniture and fighting with her over who’s going to pay for it. They go to a lot of secondhand stores, because Connor’s not letting her buy him brand new furniture because it’s wasteful and he can definitely hear Evan’s voice in his head talking about filling up landfills or whatever.

 

They do, however, buy a new mattress and a new bed frame.

 

Cynthia asks a lot of questions about durability and Connor tries very hard not to dissolve on the spot.

 

In the end, they manage to organize the delivery of almost all the furniture on Saturday morning, with the sofa coming first thing Monday morning, all before the store opens. Connor’s organized for a moving company to help with his bookshelf, desk and bedside cabinet, and Andi’s decided that she’s going to make some kind of art out of his sad, broken bed, so it’s… pretty much sorted.

 

They catch up with Zoe once she finishes work on Friday night and the three of them head out for dinner. It’s actually really, really nice - the food is good, Cynthia orders a couple of bottles of wine for the table and by the time Connor actually gets back to the apartment that’s soon to be just Andi’s, it’s early and he’s pleasantly buzzed.

 

He opens the front door, then heads into the kitchen to see that Andi’s topless and frosting a cake. She beams when she sees him. “This is a bon voyage cake!” she announces. “I frosted it blue for the sea.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere that involves the sea.”

 

“But you are moving out,” she says, and pulls him into a hug. “And I am going to miss you so, so, so much.”

 

“I’m going to miss you too.”

 

“What time are you moving in the morning?” she asks.

 

“Early,” Connor says wearily. “I’ve got movers coming here at 7, and then I’m getting furniture we bought today dropped off at eight. We need to get all of that shit done before the store opens.”

 

Andi nods. “Well,” she says decisively. “It’s only 9pm. Wanna get really high and eat this cake?”

 

Connor grins. “Absolutely.”

 

Pretty soon they are both completely, ridiculously stoned, sitting on the rug in the living room and digging into the cake. Connor’s phone buzzes on the coffee table.

 

**Do you need any help tomorrow?**

**With the move?**

  


“Who’s texting you?” Andi asks.

 

“It’s Evan,” says Connor, and picks up his phone.

 

**Most of the move is happening before the store opens**

**So it’d be an early morning**

 

**That’s not what I asked**

**Do you need help?**

 

“I haven’t seen Evan in so long,” says Andi, almost mournfully. “I miss his little face.” Connor snorts, and replies to Evan’s text.

 

**Honestly the movers will do most of it**

**You should sleep in**

**You work too hard**

 

“Evan should come over!” says Andi suddenly. “One last hurrah!” With that, she takes Connor’s phone and calls Evan. Connor can only hear half of the conversation. “Evan! It’s Andi! Connor’s fine, we’re just getting super high and eating cake and we miss you! I haven’t seen you in forever, you should come over…. Come over, please? I have cake. It’s really good cake - Connor, tell Evan it’s good cake.”

 

“It’s good cake!” Connor calls out.

 

“See? Okay so we’ll see you soon. Get a taxi or something. We love you! We’ll see you soon!”

 

With that, Andi ends the call and hands Connor the joint. It feels like barely any time has passed before there’s a knock on the door, and Andi’s on her feet quickly and ushering Evan inside, and Connor grins when he sees him because they’ve both been super busy and it’s been a while.

 

“Hey,” he says warmly. “Welcome to the party.”

 

“This isn’t a party,” says Andi with a roll of her eyes. “Not really. If you must put a label on it, I’d say it’s more of a hootenanny.”

 

“You hear that?” Connor says cheerfully. “A hootenanny. Don’t know if I’ve ever been to one of those before.”

 

“This is definitely my first hootenanny,” Evan says, and he sits down on the soft turquoise rug next to Connor and Connor kind of bumps shoulders with him in greeting. Evan looks a little surprised, but he’s smiling and Connor thinks that Evan has a really, really great smile.

 

Andi takes the joint from Connor and hands Evan a fork. “Dig in,” she says, gesturing to the cake.

 

“Should I get a plate?” Evan asks.

 

“This is more of a communal experience,” Connor explains, and digs his fork into the side of the cake and takes a chunk and eats it.

 

Evan looks mildly disgusted, but quickly seems to get over it. Andi offers him the joint and he shakes his head.

 

“Not a weed fan?” Connor asks, because now he’s mildly curious, as he doesn’t think they’ve ever talked about it.

 

Evan screws up his nose. “Makes me paranoid,” he confesses.

 

“Right,” says Connor, nodding.

 

The three of them sit and talk until they’ve eaten the entire cake. Connor offers to get Evan a drink, but he says he’s fine, and they all just kind of hang out. After about an hour, Andi starts yawning like crazy.

 

“So I’ve been up for two days trying to do this installation,” she admits, “and I really gotta crash. I probably won’t be up when you leave tomorrow but I’ll pop by later in the week with some tequila and help you warm the new place up properly, alright?”

 

“Sounds good,” says Connor, and gets up to hug Andi properly. She hugs him tightly and sniffs a little and he thinks she might be tearing up. “I’ll see you soon, Andi.”

 

“Don’t be a stranger,” Andi replies, and kisses him on the cheek, and then she pulls Evan into one of her classic bone-crushing hugs and kisses him on the cheek, and then she heads into her room.

 

Evan and Connor look at each other in the living room for a moment.

 

“How’s the packing?” Evan asks, smiling a little.

 

“More or less done,” Connor says. “It’s… weird. This is all really weird. I haven’t actually lived on my own before, not really.”

 

“Neither have I,” Evan says with a nod as they head to Connor’s room. He looks a little sheepish. “I feel like if I did live alone it… could get bad, pretty quickly, you know?”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, who still lies awake at night thinking about Evan’s doctor roommate putting in an IV line a few months ago when Evan gave himself alcohol poisoning every now and then. “I think that’s smart of you.” He offers Evan a smile. “I, on the other hand, will be living above a business, so it’s not like I’ll be all by myself.”

 

“A business you’ll own in less than a year,” Evan points out, and Connor grins.

 

It’s still crazy to think about.

 

Evan looks around the room and nods. “I mean, you don’t have much stuff, but it’s all pretty much ready to go,” he says. “I guess in the morning we just pack up your bedding and you’re ready to go.”

 

Connor blinks. “You’re staying?”

 

Evan immediately looks awkward. “I mean, I want to help,” he says, a little hesitantly. “I can come back tomorrow morning if you-”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Connor says immediately. “It’s just that you don’t usually want to stay, so-”

 

“I can go and come back-”

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Connor tells him. “You can stay.”

 

Evan frowns. “I know it’s not part of this whole deal, but-”

 

“I want you to stay,” Connor assures him. It’s then he notices that Evan’s actually got a backpack with him, and Connor’s hit with a rush of affection for his friend, who’s made an effort to come over and is offering to help him move and it’s just… nice of him. Really nice of him.

 

It’s nice that there’s someone who’d do something like this for him.

 

“I figured I’d crash on the couch,” Evan says, with an awkward shrug. He puts his backpack down, and looks around the room again, his eyes catching on the empty bookshelf. “Weird to see all your books missing.”

 

“A bookless bookshelf feels wrong,” Connor admits. “I’ll be glad to have it in the new place and full of books again.”

 

Evan turns his gaze to the bed, then back to Connor. “So are you moving this bed or did you figure out getting a new one?”

 

“New one gets delivered tomorrow morning,” he says immediately. “I went shopping for furniture today.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” Connor rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, aside from the bed everything else is secondhand. I didn’t want to, like, contribute to the landfills or whatever.”

 

Evan grins. He looks back at the bed, then at Connor, and his expression shifts a little.

 

Connor feels the air start to go a little staticky, like electricity, and Evan’s looking at him with this calculating look, looking him up and down hungrily, and Connor knows with absolute certainty where the night is going.

 

“Want to say a proper goodbye to this bed?” Connor offers, and before he knows it, Evan has him pinned by his wrists to the mattress and is kissing him hard.

 

Connor’s taking that as a yes.

 

Evan takes his time taking off Connor’s shirt, placing hot kisses on his neck as he does, and as much as Connor wants to hurry along the process, he’s a little lacking in coordination right now so he just lets Evan take the lead. Evan’s straddling his hips and Connor can see that he’s hard through his jeans.

 

Fuck.

 

Once Evan’s got Connor’s shirt off, he starts working on Connor’s belt, stopping occasionally to stroke Connor through his jeans, then finally, fucking finally gets Connor’s pants off and Connor decides that it’s time Evan was a little less clothed as well. He sits up and reaches for Evan, pulling him into a clumsy kiss that results in Evan falling on top of him, and Connor takes advantage of that to flip Evan over and climbs on top of him, trapping him between his thighs and getting his clothes off as quickly as he can.

 

It’s not long before Evan’s naked, and reaching into the top drawer of Connor’s bedside table for condoms and lube, and from then on it’s all just a blur, a haze of pleasure. Connor remembers holding onto the headboard tightly as Evan fucks him, hard and fast and gasping, he remembers Evan coming hard with Connor’s name on his lips, he remembers Evan’s mouth on his cock and tangling his hands in Evan’s hair and practically begging him to continue and at some point in the proceedings, he definitely remembers hearing the sound of wood cracking but not caring at all.

 

And at some point, he must have fallen asleep, because Connor wakes up to the sound of his alarm and seriously considers throwing his phone across the room. It’s way too fucking early for this shit.

 

He sits up and realizes that he’s alone in his bed, which is now… considerably lower to the ground than it was last night, which actually makes him laugh.

 

They genuinely, legitimately broke the fucking bed, that’s fucking hysterical.

 

Connor gets up and heads into the living room to see if Evan’s on the couch, only to see it exactly as they left it last night. He frowns a little, trying to shake off this weird feeling of disappointment, because Evan does have a tendency of leaving in the middle of the night after sex, even if it’s some ridiculous hour.

 

Still, he’d come prepared to stay last night and it just kind of sucks that he’d not been able to sleep or whatever so he’d gone home.

 

Connor decides it’s probably a good idea to have a quick shower to wake himself up, so heads to the bathroom and washes his hair and then the rest of him. He manages to get out of the shower without breaking his neck, wraps himself in a towel, grabs another towel for his hair and heads back into his room to get changed.

 

He’s got his underwear and jeans on and is looking for a shirt when the door to his room opens and there’s Evan, holding a tray of coffee and what looks like a box of donuts.

 

“Morning,” says Evan, a little awkwardly. “I, uh, I figured you might want breakfast. It’s probably going to be a long day.”

 

Connor is hit with a rush of affection and he can’t help but smile. “You are completely wonderful,” he says, and Evan turns a little pink and Connor kind of wants to kiss him, but that’s not something they do outside of sex, so that’s off the table, and it’s kind of weird that he wants it and he doesn’t really want to think about it this early in the morning.

 

After throwing on a shirt, he and Evan sit on the edge of the bed and start digging into the coffee and donuts. Evan frowns after a few moments. “Is the bed closer to the ground?”

 

“I think so,” says Connor with a grin.

 

Evan goes bright red. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

 

“I’ve already bought a new bed,” Connor reminds him. “It’s not big deal.” He grins even wider. “This old bed served its purpose, and went out with a bang.”

 

Evan lets out a disgusted groan and Connor laughs.

 

“Do you feel weird about moving?” Evan asks after a moment.

 

“Honestly? A bit.” Connor shrugs. “It’s all kind of… I know I don’t take over the store for another year, almost, but this bit… it makes it feel like it’s all really happening, you know?”

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, nodding. He gives Connor a sunny smile. “I’m really proud of you.”

 

Connor snorts. “I haven’t done anything.”

 

Evan gives him this look, this unreadable look, and Connor doesn’t know what it means but it’s making his stomach twist funnily. “Yes, you have,” he says, his voice serious, and Connor somehow realizes he’s not talking about the store.

 

Connor doesn’t know what to say, so he finishes his coffee, eats a few more donuts then sets about making sure the last of his packing is done.

 

The morning goes by in a blur. The movers show up at 7, and it’s all a very smooth process getting the furniture moved (despite a moment where Connor had to tell the movers the bed was staying and one of the movers asking how long he’d been sleeping on a broken frame). When they get to the store, Connor finds that Leslie has moved the displays around so that there’s a clear path from the front door to the door to the apartment, which makes the whole thing easy, and by the time all the furniture Connor already owns is in the apartment, the deliveries of the furniture his mother had purchased arrive.

 

By 9am, Connor looks around his new apartment and it actually looks like… an apartment. Things need to be unpacked and there are definitely a few things he needs to figure out, but he’s got somewhere to sleep, he’s got somewhere to put his books and at the end of the day, that’s all he really needs.

 

When he verbalizes that particular thought process to Evan, he actually laughs. “You also need to eat,” Evan points out. “Man cannot live on books alone.”

 

“Good thing I know how to order Thai food then, isn’t it?”

 

It’s nearly midday when Connor’s mom arrives, and she comes armed with a ridiculous amount of things for the apartment that Connor hadn’t even thought about. It takes several trips up and down the stairs to get everything in, even with Zoe and Evan helping. Once they’ve finally got everything in, Cynthia announces she’s taking the four of them out for lunch.

 

Evan immediately looks uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he says, but Cynthia’s talking over him in mere seconds.

 

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” she says, smiling brightly. “I’ve heard so much about you from Connor.”

 

Connor, who has not really said much about Evan other than that he’s his best friend, they went to high school together and Evan is a lawyer, gives Evan a sheepish look.

 

Cynthia wants to have a look around the bookstore again before they head out, and Zoe goes to use the bathroom, and then it’s just Evan and Connor in the kitchen of his new apartment.

 

“Sorry about my mom,” says Connor apologetically. “She’s a bit… much.”

 

“Having lunch with your mom can’t be any worse than dinner with your dad,” Evan points out, and Connor winces, because that had been… not fun.

 

“She’ll ask lots of questions,” Connor says, “but she’s not trying to catch you out like Larry, so… overall, it’s better. She’s just… curious. About my life, I guess.” Connor bites his lip. “I… I haven’t always really been great at staying in contact with my mom. When I was a kid, she really tried with me but she just didn’t get it, you know? But now… now Zoe and I are talking, we have coffee pretty much every week, and Mom and Zoe talk a lot, and it’s kind of… Mom calls more often now and I don’t dodge her calls anymore and we… we talk. It’s nice, I guess.”

 

Evan’s face softens a little and he gives Connor a genuine smile. “I’m glad. She seems great.”

 

Connor’s surprised when Cynthia takes them to a burger joint that could be described as hipstery. They do burgers and booze, and Cynthia orders a couple of jugs of margaritas immediately and they go over the menus. Connor can see that Evan’s a little overwhelmed, because he’s not great with on the spot decisions and there hadn’t been any time to check the menu, so he leans over and says he’s getting the chicken burger, and Evan decides to have the same.

 

Once they’ve ordered, Cynthia turns to Evan with a big smile. “So Connor tells me you all went to high school together,” she says brightly.

 

“Elementary and middle school as well,” Zoe points out, and Evan looks a little surprised at Zoe’s words. She grins. “I actually found some old photos from when Connor turned 10 in one of the boxes of stuff from the house that ended up at my place and I’m pretty sure I saw Evan at the Harry Potter party.”

 

Evan kind of tilts his head and then seems to remember. “I remember that, vaguely,” he says, with a bit of a smile. “My mom and I went looking for a stick at the park to use as a wand, and she turned one of her old jackets into a wizard's robe for me.” He looks a little embarrassed. “We didn’t have a lot of money, so Mom got creative. A lot.” He looks at Connor. “I remember you had, like, the official costume, and I thought it was really cool.”

 

Connor has vague memories of this, but only vague ones. Mostly he just remembers that a lot of kids from school only came along because they liked Harry Potter, not because they were his friends, and he spent most of the party just kind of… sitting there in the corner, rereading The Sorcerer's Stone, and someone sat with him for a bit and asked if the book and the movie were really different because they hadn’t read the book yet, and they read together for a while.

 

“So there’s this photo,” Zoe goes on to say with a smile, “and there’s Connor in the corner, reading the first Harry Potter book, and Evan’s sitting next to him with his stick wand. It’s super cute.” She smiles at Evan. “I’ll email you the photo sometime.” Then she turns to Connor. “You too, if you want it.”

 

“That’d be cool,” says Connor, who’s putting it all together in his head and realizing that…

 

Wow, okay. One of the only nice memories from his tenth birthday was actually with Evan.

 

Not for the first time, he finds himself wishing that they’d talked more when they were kids.

 

“That was a fun party,” says Cynthia, her voice fond. “So many people came! You were all so obsessed with Harry Potter, it was fun trying to make all the food and getting all the decorations.” She smiles widely. “Children’s birthday parties are hard work, but a lot of fun. I’m sure you’ll find that out one day, Zoe.”

 

Zoe rolls her eyes at Connor and Connor tries not to laugh. She then starts talking about a funny story at work and Connor pours Evan another glass of margarita and Evan smiles and thanks him. He looks like maybe he’s remembering that party all those years ago as well, and it’s just…

 

Well, it’s funny to think about, especially now.

 

Lunch goes by at a leisurely pace. The burgers are really good and Cynthia keeps ordering more and more margarita jugs, and the combination of not much sleep and all the alcohol means that Connor’s feeling pretty tipsy pretty quickly. It’s still kind of surreal to see his mom eating a burger with her hands, getting kind of messy and licking sauce of her fingers, because she’s always seemed so classy and untouchable. It’s surreal, but it’s not bad. It’s kind of nice, actually.

 

When they’ve finished their burgers, Cynthia insists they have dessert, and all four of them end up with some far too delicious for their own good alcoholic milkshakes, which means that by the end of the meal they’re well on their way to drunk.

 

“There are so many great places to eat in New York,” Cynthia says, her voice a little slurred but definitely happy as they leave. “I need to come visit you kids more often.”

 

“And get us drunk by two in the afternoon,” says Zoe with a giggle.

 

Connor’s definitely drunker than he thought he was, and he stumbles a little and Evan puts his arm around his waist to steady him and then just… leaves it there, and it’s a little weird because he’s not usually like this in public but Connor actually really, really likes it and has no desire to tell him to stop. Zoe keeps looking at them and after a moment, decides that she and their mom are going back to her apartment to watch rom-coms and that they’ll see Evan and Connor later. They get into a taxi and then it’s just Evan and Connor, again.

 

Which is, Connor thinks to himself, how he likes it.

 

“You were on the waiting list at the library,” Connor remembers suddenly. Evan looks at him, clearly confused, so he finishes his thought. “At my Harry Potter party, you said you hadn’t read The Sorcerer’s Stone yet because you were on the waiting list at the library.” Connor is sad for a moment. “I should have lent you my copy,” he says mournfully. “Ten year old me was a dick.”

 

“I read the book like a week after the party, I think,” Evan says, and his face looks like he is really concentrating. “You were right that the book is better.”

 

“Obviously,” says Connor with a decisive nod as they head back in the direction of the bookstore, which isn’t actually that far away from the burger place. “The book is always better. It’s basically law.”

 

“What’s your Hogwarts house?” Evan asks as they walk.

 

Connor grins. “Guess.”

 

“Ravenclaw,” says Evan immediately, and Connor cracks up laughing.

 

“Am I that obvious?”

 

“You’re about to buy a _bookstore,”_ Evan says with a laugh. “It’s basically a Ravenclaw’s dream.” They turn the corner, and Evan grins at Connor. “I’m a Slytherin.”

 

“Really?” asks Connor, and Evan goes to say something but Connor cuts him off. “No, actually, that makes total sense.”

 

“I agree,” says Evan with a nod. “People seem to think I’m a Hufflepuff. And, like, no shade to Hufflepuffs, but also how dare you.”

 

“You’re sneaky,” Connor says immediately, and his face hurts from smiling. “Definitely a Slytherin thing. Also, you’re, like… very ambition. Very cunning. You’re a lovely kind Slytherin, but still a Slytherin.”

 

Evan’s gone a little pink but he grins as well. “Slytherin’s aren’t all evil,” he says firmly.

 

“Absolutely,” Connor says, nodding in agreement. He grins at Evan. “My best friend is a Slytherin.”

 

Evan goes even pinker and Connor thinks it’s really fucking cute.

 

Evan is just… really fucking cute, and Connor thinks it’s great, and that he’s really lucky they’re friends.

 

When they get back to the bookstore, Evan’s hand isn’t on his waist anymore, which Connor’s a little sad about, but he figures he should try to not appear super drunk in front of any customers and Leslie, so he tries very hard to look like he’s not drunk and waves at Leslie with a smile as they head through the store and upstairs to the apartment.

 

Connor heads straight for the bedroom and takes off his shoes, Evan close behind. Connor flops down on his new bed, which someone has taken the time to make up so it’s got all his pillows and blankets and fresh sheets and he’s not actually sure when that happened, to be perfectly honest. The mattress is good, though. Very comfortable.

 

Then again, he’s definitely drunk.

 

Evan lies down next to him and they stare at the ceiling together for a while.

 

“This is a good mattress,” Evan says matter-of-factly. “Very comfortable.” He laughs. “Then again, I’m definitely drunk.”

 

Connor rolls over onto his side, and Evan does the same, and then Connor pulls Evan close toward him and kisses him roughly. Evan kisses him back, and Connor can taste that there was definitely salted caramel in the milkshake Evan had after his burger, and it’s delicious and Connor deepens the kiss because Evan tastes awesome right now.

 

“New bed,” Evan murmurs as they break off. “Should we break it in?”

 

“Please don’t break this bed,” Connor says with a laugh. “I just got it.”

 

Evan turns red but laughs as well. “It’s not my fault,” he says, and his eyes are dark as he looks Connor up and down. “You’re just far too tempting.”

 

“Tempting?” says Connor with a wicked grin, then kisses Evan’s neck before he can respond, and unbuttons Evan’s shirt and takes his time kissing his way down Evan’s chest before undoing his belt, pulling down his pants and underwear and then kissing his hip bone. “I’m not the only one who’s tempting.”

 

“Why are you still wearing clothes?” Evan says, and Connor takes Evan’s dick in his mouth before Evan can do anything about Connor’s clothing situation, because he’s just really fucking glad Evan’s in his life, he’s really glad he has Evan as a friend and he’s really, really glad that he gets to see Evan like this, gets to touch Evan like this, because he’s undeniably beautiful when he’s turned on.

 

Evan moans his name as Connor blows him, and plays with Connor’s hair and Connor really, really likes that, and Connor’s quite happy where he is but after a while, Evan’s gasping and murmuring for him to stop, that he’s close but still has plans for Connor. Then Evan’s pulling off Connor’s clothes and holding down his wrists on the mattress and kissing him hard, and his mouth is hot and wet and still tastes like bourbon and caramel and Evan’s hand is on his cock, stroking him far too slowly and it’s just agonizingly hot, Evan is so fucking hot like this and Connor is ridiculously hard.

 

“Wanna fuck you,” Evan says in Connor’s ear, before placing a hot kiss on his neck, and Connor nods in agreement, and it takes a moment to find where the condoms and lube have ended up in the move, so there’s a bit of organization needed, but soon Evan is slowly working his finger inside Connor, and he’s going agonizingly slowly and Connor’s genuinely convinced he might be seeing stars, and he’s barely coherent as Evan starts fucking him, setting a pace that might genuinely drive him insane.

 

“Evan, fuck, I… _fuck.”_

 

“You feel so good,” Evan says, his voice rough. “Connor, fuck, you’re gorgeous like this.”

 

It doesn’t take long for Connor to fall over the edge, moaning Evan’s name as he comes, and Evan’s not far behind him, and they end up tangled in a sweaty, sticky pile, and Connor doesn’t remember falling asleep but he does remember waking up as it starts to get dark and Evan’s nowhere to be seen.

 

Connor takes a moment to look around his new bedroom. He’s not entirely unpacked yet, or even a little bit unpacked yet, but he’s got a bed, he knows where the condoms and lube are and it looks like Evan’s found his trash bin and disposed of the used condom, so that’s a start.

 

He gets up, looks around for his boxers and the door to his bedroom opens. Evan’s fully clothed, and he eyes up Connor’s still naked body with interest and Connor tries not to blush.

 

“I should get going,” Evan says, his tone a little apologetic. “I didn’t really get much sleep last night, so… I know it’s early, but I should get home.”

 

“Sure,” says Connor, trying to push aside the part of him that’s a little disappointed. “Uh, thanks for helping with the move. And getting coffee and donuts and having lunch with my mom. You… you’re a great friend and I really appreciate it.”

 

Evan smiles brightly. “Any time,” he says, and Connor thinks he means it.

 

* * *

Connor honestly thinks that living above his workplace is excellent and that everyone should do it. He gets a lot more sleep, and doesn’t have to deal with traffic to get to work, and he can even head upstairs and get a sandwich for lunch if he wants.

 

There are a lot of benefits, and it’s working out pretty well for him.

 

His first week of work while living above the store is pretty much business as usual, but he does find himself locking up the store from the outside at least once before remembering that, actually, he lives inside.

 

Evan comes around after work on Tuesday and they order pizza and watch Friends reruns and don’t actually have sex because Evan has to be at work early the next morning so he heads out after a few episodes, but it’s nice. It’s nice to have company in the evenings, because Connor’s never lived alone and it is something he’s going to have to get used to.

 

On Thursday at quarter to eight, the store is empty and Connor spends some time tidying up displays. He’s got the children’s section looking good when the bell above the door rings and he stands up to greet the customer.

 

And gets the shock of his life to see Richard standing there.

 

“What are you doing here?” he asks immediately.

 

“I wanted to see you,” says Richard, walking toward him. “I know it’s been a while-”

 

“That’s an understatement,” Connor says dryly. “Look, Richard, I don’t know why you’re here after months, but-”

 

“I left James.”

 

Connor blinks. “Okay? Why do I need to know this?”

 

“I want to give this another go,” Richard says, and he takes a step closer to Connor and Connor takes a step back. “You and I. I miss you. I miss talking to you and being with you and… I just miss you.”

 

“I haven’t even thought about you,” Connor says, and it’s probably harsh but it’s the truth. He looks at Richard for a long moment. He’s still got the expensive jacket and haircut, but he looks… older. Worn out. If Connor actually gave a fuck, he’d be concerned. Instead, he just suspects that there’s more to this than what Richard is saying. “Did you leave James or did he kick you out?”

 

Richard blinks, then visibly deflates. “He kicked me out,” he says, almost mumbles, and Connor’s not fucking surprised. “He… he wants a divorce, and full custody of our son, and I… I wanted to see you, I wanted to talk to you. I know I’ve been… there have been other people, sure, I’ll admit that, but none of them were you. I didn’t care about any of them the way I care about you.”

 

Connor actually has to laugh at that. “You are so full of shit. Are you even listening to yourself?”

 

“You wouldn’t have stayed with me for a whole year if you didn’t feel it too,” Richard presses. “You wouldn’t have stayed after you found out I was married if there wasn’t a part of you that cared about me, saw that it was more than just sex.”

 

“It was just sex,” Connor says sharply, and that sits weirdly with him, because he and Evan aren’t together, they’re just having sex, but it’s different, it’s completely different, because Evan is good and kind and considerate and his friend, someone he trusts implicitly, and Richard is… “I don’t even like you. I think you’re a terrible fucking person, Richard.”

 

Richard looks crestfallen. “Connor, please.”

 

The bell over the door rings again and Evan stands in the doorway of the bookstore, eyes wide and full of disbelief. “What the fuck?” he says.

 

Richard turns to look at Evan, then back to Connor. “So this is why,” he says bitterly. “You’re fucking this guy. Did any of it matter to you at all?”

 

“It didn’t,” Connor says, crossing his arms. “None of it mattered. You didn’t matter to me and I sure as fuck didn’t matter to you, so get the fuck out of my store.”

 

Richard scowls, then storms out, and Evan looks at Connor, still clearly shocked.

 

“You’re still sleeping with Richard?”

 

“What? No,” Connor replies immediately, frowning. “I haven’t seen him in months, he just… showed up.”

 

“How would he know you lived here if you didn’t tell him?” Evan asks, and he’s frowning now. “You… you live above the store, was he here for sex?”

 

“I haven’t seen him in months,” Connor says again, and he’s starting to get annoyed because this is bullshit, this is complete bullshit. “But he met me here, he knows where I work.”

 

Evan laughs hollowly. “So, what, he just happened to show up, the week after you moved into the apartment above the store, and I’m supposed to believe that?”

 

“You’re supposed to believe me,” Connor snaps. “Why would I lie to you about this?”

 

“You were fucking him for a year,” Evan retorts, and he’s still frowning. “How do I know you didn’t just keep fucking him? We’re not… I never asked if I was the only person you were sleeping with, and if I’m not that’s fine, it’s your life, but Richard… he’s an asshole, he’s a complete fucking asshole and you-”

 

“I’m not fucking him,” Connor says, and there is something inside him that wants to start screaming, because Evan doesn’t believe him, he doesn’t believe him, and that’s bullshit, because he has never lied to Evan, Evan is someone he cares about and wouldn’t lie to and Evan doesn’t believe Connor. “I’m not fucking anyone else.”

 

“You can fuck whoever you want!” Evan practically yells. “Just have some fucking self-respect, okay? And, like, _tell me_ so I know to get tested more often because who the fuck knows what Richard’s picked up while he’s fucked his way through New York City?”

 

“I’m not fucking him! Fuck Evan, I know how much you hate the guy, I wouldn’t fucking do that-”

 

“Why wouldn’t you?” Evan says, his eyes blazing with anger. “I mean, you were fucking him for a year, knowing full well he was married. If him being married wasn’t enough for you to call it quits then why would you stop now?”

 

Connor sees red.

 

“You know what, fuck you!” Connor yells. “I don’t have to stand here and listen to you yell at me about this! I’ve told you that I’m not fucking him, that I haven’t seen him in months and if you can’t get your head around that, then get the fuck out of my store.”

 

Evan stares at him for a long moment. “It’s not your store yet,” he says bitterly, then heads out the front door and closes it behind him with a slam.

 

Connor stands there in the empty bookstore and blinks a few times, because for some reason he thinks he might cry.

 

“This is bullshit,” he says to the empty room, then decides to close up five minutes early so he can head back up to his apartment and have a drink.

 

* * *

Evan’s hands shook. His jaw clenched too tight. Fucking Connor, fucking _Richard,_ fucking Connor was _fucking_ fucking Richard.

Evan hated Richard. He was in like a top ten list of most hateable people, hovering just between Evan’s father and Donald Trump. Richard was just such an asshole. And Evan had just been so ill-equipped to deal with it when they met.

He was so fucking idiotic when he started in Richard’s office as their summer intern. So optimistic and determined that things would work out here even though they had literally never worked out for Evan anywhere. Richard had a reputation as a rockstar in the courtroom and the summer internship was highly coveted and Evan had gotten it and he forced himself to believe that meant he was going to be fine now. Nevermind that Sabrina was gone and nevermind that he kept having these violent fantasies about throwing himself in front of a subway train on his way into midtown every morning. He had made it.

Richard was a very passionate person, Evan learned fast. He really dove into cases, sometimes finding obscure legal precedents, sometimes digging into the background of the opposing counsel or the judge presiding over the case, always to make sure his clients got a fair shake at justice and Evan thought that was wonderful. He cared a lot about his clients and his cases and wasn’t afraid to put in the work. He was persistent and dedicated and Evan sort of wished he could soak up a little of that energy because that was the sort of lawyer he wanted to be.

But Richard was also a really shitty boss. Evan found himself fetching coffee more often than he was actually getting mentored, operating mostly as an errand boy only he wasn’t even getting paid for it. Richard would tell Evan to handle his personal correspondence sometimes and that was how Evan learned that Richard was sleeping with three men that weren’t his husband.

Evan felt really conflicted, really torn because working so closely with Richard meant he got to know James and also Sebastian. James was a very sweet man. He always remembered Evan’s name (Richard sometimes called him Eric, which grated… a lot). He’d ask how the summer was going and talk to Evan about cases Richard had mentioned. He sometimes brought in lunch for Richard’s entire team, and he once pulled Evan aside saying he hoped he wasn’t making a presumption, but he’d spotted a picture on Evan’s desk of Evan and his mom at Evan’s bar mitzvah, so James had made sure that he picked up kosher sandwiches as well? James was just very nice person who was killing it in the nonprofit world but had stepped back to be home more often with Sebastian, their son, and called Richard “Rich” and threw parties and made sure that the summer associates were all invited.

And Richard kept cheating on him, with the Starbucks barista and the bookstore guy and a rotating third cast member. And asked Evan to manage their conversations. And refused to take any of Evan’s input on cases even though that was literally why he was there. And called Evan “Eric” sometimes. A lot of the time.

But Evan gritted his teeth and put up with it because a recommendation from Richard McLaren could make his career.

James had actually been the one to invite Evan to the barbecue on the Fourth of July. He asked on a long Friday night when after Evan had already worked for ten hours at the firm, Richard basically ordered him to watch Sebastian because their regular sitter had cancelled. Evan didn’t know anything about toddlers, really, but he and Sabrina had watched her nephew a couple of times so he agreed to it. Sebastian mostly slept the whole time, and Evan tried not to do the same even though he was exhausted. James paid him like $150 for the night, which Evan wanted to refuse but he really could use the money, and then asked Evan if he was going to attend the McLaren’s Fourth of July barbecue in the Hamptons.

Evan said he would be there and went through all of the fucking nonsense to get a bus ticket out to fucking Southhampton on the Fourth of July. The barbecue was mostly people from the firm, but there were a few people from James’s nonprofit and Evan was in the middle of a really interesting conversation with him about the work he was doing to reduce HIV transmission rates when Richard called out to Evan and asked for a hand in the kitchen.

“Oh, he’s totally useless in there,” James said. “I should go help -”

But then Sebastian started to cry and Evan smiled and said he could handle helping Richard. He went inside and Richard asked Evan if he could come into the walk-in pantry to reach something on the top shelf, which Evan realized in retrospect was a flimsy explanation because Evan was maybe only a few inches taller than Richard.

Richard closed the pantry door and said, conversationally, that he liked the shirt Evan was wearing. Evan said thank you, still trying to reach the top shelf, thinking he just wanted to get out of this pantry because this felt fishy and weird and then…

It was so obvious and Evan was stupid to find himself in this situation.

Richard pressed himself against Evan’s body, and Evan could feel that he was hard, and he tried to kiss Evan.  

“St-stop,” Evan said, twisting his head away. “Your husband is right outside.”

“I don’t think he’ll interrupt,” Richard said and then he was grabbing at Evan, hands groping and Evan shoved him, harder than he meant to, feeling his face heat up, his heart pounding too fast.

“You’re married!” Was what Evan said. Not “don’t touch me” or “I’m not interested” or “fuck off.” He said, “You’re married.”

“What James doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Richard said and he went to try to kiss Evan again and Evan tried to back away but got trapped by the pantry shelves and so Richard’s kiss landed on Evan’s neck and he pulled away to say something about how he bet Evan was a good boy, always so eager to please and how happy it would make Richard if they fucked and Evan pushed him away again.

“You don’t have to play so hard to get,” Richard said smiling and to Evan’s eyes that smile looked feral, looked almost monstrous and he turned and left the pantry as fast as his feet could carry him.

He spent the next couple of hours getting as much distance as he could between himself and Richard and then he took the fucking bus home and it took hours and when he got back to his apartment he drank until he could finally sleep.

 

Fuck. Evan really hated Richard. But he never said anything because he didn’t want to risk becoming the joke of the firm, risk his recommendation. So he never said anything, just quietly hated Richard for the rest of the summer and hoped he would never have to see him again.

And then he was standing there, talking to Connor on the sales floor of The Little Book Nook and Evan just. Lost it. Connor had never said, explicitly, that he was finished with Richard but his name hadn’t come up and… Evan just figured Richard was out of both of their lives. And then he was there and he knew where to find Connor and Evan just felt so strangely betrayed because Richard had tried to fuck with Evan, and Connor was sleeping with him? Fantastic, fanfuckingtastic. Because of course that was his life. He saw Richard standing there with Connor and he just. Saw red. Lost his shit because Connor was sleeping with Richard and Richard was the fucking worst.

Only, Connor had said he wasn’t sleeping with Richard. And Evan hadn’t believed him. And Evan had made the whole fucking thing about himself, about how he hated that guy so much that he hadn’t even listened to Connor, hadn’t asked if Connor was alright because Evan was too busy being angry and feeling betrayed.

Fuck.

Maybe Richard had really just shown up. Richard had just shown up at Connor’s birthday party, over and over and over again. And Connor was right, obviously Richard knew where he worked, Evan had jumped to a conclusion there… And Evan knew how persistent Richard could be...

Maybe Connor wasn’t lying.

Fuck.

Evan had made this whole thing about him.

Evan was a shitty friend, a shitty person. That thing he said about Connor not owning the store yet? What the fuck was the matter with him?

He just. Seeing Connor with Richard reminded him that Connor used to be the type of guy who slept with married men and died over and over and told Evan the stuff Evan didn’t want to hear about himself.

Evan really, objectively didn’t care if Connor slept with other people. Well. Maybe a little. Only because it meant Connor might have been keeping something from him. And for whatever reason, Evan seemed to have believed there was a Death Loop Partner Code of Conduct that meant they didn’t keep secrets. But Connor hadn’t agreed to those rules or even said he wasn’t sleeping with Richard anymore and Evan was just angry at himself, really.

He’d blamed Connor without hesitation because he just… assumed Connor was stupid enough to get back involved with Richard and he had no proof of that. What if Richard had just shown up, what if he had said something or done something to Connor and Evan had just… blamed Connor? Fuck, fuck.

Evan sat in his bedroom staring at his phone, his anger dissipating. He hadn’t heard from Connor and he didn’t expect to hear from him ever again. Fuck. He really fucked this up.  

He went to work the next morning, feeling like hell and trying to avoid anybody and everybody. Evan kept his office door closed, tried to focus on the work he had to do, but his mind was miles and miles and miles away. He thought about July and about the February night that never happened because it happened so many times. He did some googling about Richard and his firm and just kept frowning because Richard McLaren had won another big case and it seemed nobody had a bad word to say about him.

“Yo!”

Evan looked up. Asher was knocking on his door. “Hey,” Evan said wearily. “Come in.”

“Is your dude bringing you food today?” Asher said.

Evan doubted that very much. “No.”

“Do you want to take a walk with me?” Asher asked and Evan was surprised because he didn’t think he and Asher were that close. Or at all close.

“Okay,” Evan said, because it couldn’t hurt. “Now?”

“Yeah, if that’s cool?”

Evan got up and followed Asher to the elevators and they rode in silence to the ground floor lobby. Asher asked after one of Evan’s new clients, and Evan asked after one of Asher’s and they headed to a deli nearby to get sandwiches.

“You interned for Richard McLaren, right?” Asher asked and Evan took a moment to consider if the universe actually, seriously hated him. He was fairly sure the answer was yes, if this past year was anything to go off of.

“Yeah. I did.”

“So did I. Two years ago. What’s your take on him?” Asher asked, his tone even and professional.

Evan shrugged. “He’s good at what he does.”

“Yeah,” Asher said, looking mildly uncomfortable. “Look, what I’m about to say… can you not like spread this, tell Mariah or Charles?”

“Sure.”

“When Charles and I broke up, I started looking into moving to another firm because working with your ex can be a total nightmare.”

Evan nodded.

“I got an offer from Richard’s firm today. I haven’t even interviewed there, they just heard through the grapevine and sent me an offer.” He took a bite of his food, chewed, then swallowed. “A really nice offer.”

“Good for you,” Evan said, and he was faking it, he could hardly even muster a smile.

“When you worked there…” Asher said carefully. “Did Richard… was he ever…” He stopped, smiled apologetically. “Fuck, this is harder to say than I thought so I’m just gonna spit it out. He came onto me when I was an intern.”

“Oh.”

“And it was… Fuck, I shouldn’t have let it happen because he was my fucking boss and I had a boyfriend and. I left feeling so fucking guilty and. Now I’ve got this offer, this perfect on paper offer and -”

“You don’t want to take it,” Evan surmised.

“I don’t want to take it,” Asher confessed. “At all. Am I nuts?”

Evan stalled for a moment, chewing carefully and slowly before swallowing. “I don’t blame you,” He said.

“You don’t?”

“Richard is a piece of human trash. No. He’s an entire human landfill.”

“Yeah,” Asher said. “So, you too then?”

Evan nodded, his movements jerky and awkward. “It didn’t really… go anywhere but… Yeah.”

Asher shook his head. “Fuck, you know he only hires the pretty guys right? He’s not even subtle about it. You’re like. The third person other than me that I know of. It’s just, like, this open secret and nobody has called him on it.”

Evan nodded. “He’s a prick.”

“I’m not gonna take the offer,” Asher said, something steely in his tone. “I don’t want to be anywhere near him.”

“I turned an offer down from them before I started,” Evan said after a bit. “It felt really satisfying to say no to him.”

Asher nodded. “Good.”

 

* * *

Connor’s in a terrible mood the next day, and tries very hard not to take it out on everyone around him. He’s working with Garrett that day, who’s not his favorite person in the world at the best of times and today is just making his blood boil every time he looks at him, because Garrett had known from the very beginning that Richard was married and hadn’t told Connor until he’d been fucking him for four months, despite having seen them together on numerous occasions.

 

Still, he manages to get through the day and that night sits in front of his laptop and watches dumb YouTube videos and drinks, because he’s pissed off at Richard, he’s pissed off at Evan but mostly he’s pissed off at himself for being a fucking idiot.

 

He remembers when Garrett told him. Richard had stopped by the bookstore to take him out for lunch, and they had a nice meal and a quick fuck in the restaurant bathroom. Connor had returned to work and Richard had kissed him before he left, and Garrett had just kind of smirked at him for a moment and asked him if James knew about the two of them.

 

Connor, like the idiot he is, had genuinely asked, “who’s James?”

 

Garrett had stared at him like he was very, very stupid. “James. His husband.”

 

Connor remembers having felt sick to his stomach, saying in a small voice “he’s married?” and having Garrett laugh and go on his lunch break.

 

He remembers that sick feeling not going away. He remembers going home and getting really high and trying not to think about it. He remembers a week of not taking Richard’s calls, not responding to emails or texts, until finally, Connor had emailed, saying that he knew about James, that he hadn’t known Richard was married and that if he’d known, he never would have slept with him.

 

And then another week of not answering Richard’s calls or responding to emails or texts, until finally Richard showed up at the bookstore, just before closing, and begged Connor to go for a drink with him, and Connor had relented because he’d…

 

He hadn’t loved Richard. It wasn’t like that. But it had been… nice, having someone who pursued him, who wanted him for more than just a quick fuck. Who kept coming back after they had sex the first time, who called and emailed and took him out for dinner and one time genuinely bought him flowers and…

 

Connor hadn’t had that before, and he thought it was nice.

 

He’d thought Richard was nice.

 

That night, Richard had looked at Connor and had said, to his face, that he’d been clear with Connor from the beginning. That he’d honestly thought that Connor knew he was married, and that it wasn’t fair for Connor to just end things when Richard had been clear from the beginning.

 

Looking back, Connor can see that it’s bullshit, that Richard hadn’t been clear at all, that there’d been no way of knowing he was married. But… well, fuck, Richard’s not a lawyer for nothing. He’d talked circles around Connor, he’d talked him into it, he’d left Connor feeling like he was the asshole here, like what Richard was saying made perfect sense and that if he called things off now, he wouldn’t be being fair, and Connor… likes to think he’s a fair person, so he’d… agreed to keep seeing Richard.

 

And then, like an asshole, he’d kept things up for a full year.

 

A full fucking year.

 

It was only in late January when Richard told Connor that he loved him that Connor realized that the whole thing was completely fucked up. That Connor might not know anything about love, but if that bullshit was love then he didn’t want anything to do with it.

 

And Richard had called him and texted him and emailed him for an entire month.

 

He’d shown up at the bookstore a few times and Leslie had let Connor hide in the storeroom until he left.

 

And then he’d shown up at Connor’s birthday party.

 

Over and over and over and over again.

 

Connor knows he’s an asshole. He’s well aware that he’s an asshole, that he makes bad decisions and hurts people and is genuinely unpleasant most of the time unless he’s trying to sell someone a goddamn book, but… he doesn’t want to be that much of an asshole. He doesn’t want anything to do with Richard ever again.

 

He wishes he’d never met him, he wishes Richard had never shown up at the store again, and he wishes Evan hadn’t seen him, because Connor hates that Evan doesn’t believe him but he hates even more that he’d hurt Evan. Somehow he knows that the idea of Connor still fucking Richard hurts Evan. Connor thinks about Evan’s offhand comment about Richard feeling him up at a barbecue and remembers Richard’s offhand comments about his intern being eager to please and thinks there’s more to it, and it makes his stomach churn and…

 

Connor knew what he was getting into when he started fucking Richard, but Evan was just there to do a job.

 

Fuck.

 

As much as Connor hates that Evan doesn’t believe him…

 

Fuck.

 

Connor thinks back to Richard’s words from Thursday night. James kicked him out, he wants a divorce and full custody of their son, which as far as Connor’s concerned is fair enough, fucking hell.

 

Then he thinks of how easily Richard convinced Connor that he owed it to him to keep fucking him. Thinks about how good a lawyer Richard is, and how he’s good at making people think what he wants them to.

 

Connor’s never met James, and honestly doesn’t ever want to, because he doesn’t think he’d be able to face the guy without throwing up. Evan says James is a really great guy, and Connor knows he’s an asshole, but…

 

Maybe he can fucking try to make things better, he thinks as he finishes his glass of whisky and finally goes to bed.

 

The next morning, he wakes up with a hangover and a mission.

 

* * *

By Sunday, Evan had still not heard from Connor. Nor had he reached out to Connor himself. Because he was an asshole and he sucked at apologies and if he apologized he might have to explain himself and other than drunkenly accusing Richard during a night that never happened, Evan had never really told anyone. Because part of him still privately thought he was blowing it out of proportion, because nothing had really happened, Richard had come onto him and had been persistent and Evan left without a scratch, just a bit frazzled that his boss had talked to him that way.

He knew, of course, if he heard about something similar happening to a woman, he would have thought differently but Evan couldn’t quite convince himself.

Evan was being intentionally lazy that Sunday, trying to work up the nerve to say something to Connor while also completing his therapy assignment to give himself permission to do nothing every once in a while. So far, Evan wasn’t exactly acing this homework. He’d responded to some emails and consulted with a client on the phone for half an hour… but he was still in his pajamas while he did it, and now he was just sort of mindlessly web surfing and listening to music.

When the doorbell sounded, Evan assumed it must be a mistake because nobody buzzed this apartment and Alex and Mattie weren’t home so it wasn’t like one of them had an UberEats delivery he was ignoring. He skipped to the next song because the one he was listening to had a very long outro that Evan didn’t like much when the buzzer sounded again.

Evan sighed, walking toward the intercom buttons by the door and said, “Who is it?”

He held down the LISTEN button for a bit until a crackly voice said, “Connor.”

Evan wasn’t expecting Connor… he wasn’t sure why he was there. But he hit the button to open the door and waited. He started to feel a bit nervous, because what if Connor was here to tell Evan that he didn’t want to talk to him anymore, that he and Richard were together now, what if he was here to like end their friendship or whatever and Evan didn’t really know how friend breakups worked so he assumed that was a possibility and maybe he was going to go back to how things were before he died when he didn’t have anyone to talk to or anyone who would text him randomly in the middle of the day or show up with lunch or -

Connor knocked on the door. Evan opened it, and Connor strode inside, a manila envelope tucked under his arm. “Okay, I get it. You think I’m a huge asshole in regards to the whole Richard shitshow and, like, you’re probably right about that but I am not sleeping with him anymore, I swear, and I need your help because I want to do something that’s not assholeish.” He handed Evan the envelope, then seemed to look at him for the first time. “Were you sleeping?”

“No,” Evan said. “Just… I’m supposed to - Marcia wants me to practice taking time to just, like, not be working or whatever. It’s not important.” He peered down at the envelope. “What’s all this?”

Connor frowned. “When Richard showed up on Thursday he told me James kicked him out. That he wants a divorce and he wants full custody of their kid and… I was an asshole for fucking a married guy. I know that. But I didn’t know he was married at first, and I should have just stopped once I knew but I didn’t… Those are all of the emails and phone logs and text conversations I had with Richard. I don’t know legal shit but I thought… Maybe they might help.”

“Help?”

“Help James so he doesn’t, like, get screwed over in this divorce.”

“You want to help James?” Evan said softly, his chest flooding with affection for Connor because it was exactly like Connor to want to find a way to make up for hurting someone like that.

“I guess? I just. I figured since Richard’s a lawyer he might have had them sign a prenuptial agreement and… Do you think it would help his case?”

Evan took the envelope and had a seat on the sofa. “I mean, probably. Proof of an affair can be useful, especially if there’s an infidelity clause.” He paused, looking down at the envelope. “Can I look through this?”

“There’s nothing in there that you don’t already know,” Connor said, shrugging. “I… I know it looked bad the other night but I swear, I haven’t seen Richard since my birthday.”

Evan nodded, and he slid a stack of neatly organized papers from the envelope and started to page through it. The email print outs went from flirtatious and outright sexual (Evan spotted his own ghostwritten email among the pages and pages, as well as a few references to “Eric” Richard’s overeager intern) to a sudden shift when an email from Connor read, _“I know about James. I had no idea you were married, and I don’t fuck married guys.”_

He hadn’t known. For months, it turned out. Connor hadn’t known about James or Sebastian. After a few emails from Richard begging Connor to talk to him, they did resume the flirting and the plans to meet up, but they were less frequent and something in Connor’s tone definitely changed.

Legally speaking, on paper proof that an affair had taken place would be useful for James. But personally… Evan sort of wanted to spare him the details. James was nice. He didn’t deserve to have to deal with any of this.

Evan flipped back to the front of the stack of papers and found a handwritten note from Connor paper clipped to the first page. He apologized to James for the affair, saying he had not known at first but it didn’t excuse his actions. That he hoped James was able to move on to someone who actually cared about him. That he hoped the emails could help James out.

“I think this would help a lot,” Evan said when he finally found his voice. “I know l Richard usually covered his tracks well in the office, at least. I only knew because I was… his intern. Eric. Most of the time he got my name wrong and I never corrected him because I wanted to make a good impression.” He shook his head. “This… this must have taken forever to put together.”

Connor shrugged. “It’s the least I can do. I mean, I fucked up the guy’s marriage… I owe him something.”

“Trust me, that marriage was already fucked up when you came along.” Evan sucked in a breath. “Do you need James’s contact information? I’ve still got his card.”

“That would be great.”

Evan went into his bedroom and pulled the card out of the box where he held onto other business contacts’ information. He returned to the living room and handed it to Connor. Evan sat beside Connor and said, “I’m really fucking sorry for blowing up at you the other day. That was… beyond uncool. I’m really sorry.”

Connor nodded. “Thanks, for uh. For saying that.” He frowned. “He really did just show up when I was working.”

“I believe you,” Evan said. “I’m sorry that I didn’t before. I was just being stupid. I know Richard’s a prick who just… does shit like that. I should have just listened to you instead of freaking out and making the whole thing about how I can’t stand Richard. And I’m really sorry.”

“You said,” Connor said very carefully, his tone even and gentle. “At my birthday party, when we kept dying, you said… Something about how Richard didn’t know how to take no for an answer or something?”

Evan knew his face was flushing. “I… Yeah. He kind of… came on to me at this barbecue he and James threw over the Fourth of July.” That was a lie. Evan cleared his throat. “Well. He did come on to me, actually, and basically tried to get in my pants while I was in the kitchen pantry and… yeah.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Evan shrugged because it was whatever, he was fine, he had gotten through it and it was okay now. It was over, he didn’t work there anymore, it was water under the thing or whatever.

“Did you like… report him or whatever?”

“To who?” Evan said, his voice bitterer than he intended. “He was my boss. It happened outside of work and… nothing really even happened. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Connor said. “I’m really sorry you had to see him again.”

“I’m sorry too. That you had to see him,” Evan said softly. “He’s really such an asshole.”

“Yeah.”

They sat there quietly for a few minutes.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone else,” Connor said after a few minutes. “I realize we never really talked about it, but I’m not. Sleeping with anyone else.”

“Okay.”

“Turns out I have terrible taste in men when left to my own devices,” Connor said and Evan sort of smiled at him. “Good you’re actually the best person I know, huh?”

Evan felt his face get warm. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have blown up the way I did. It was awful of me to just assume and get angry…”

“It’s okay,” Connor said.

“And the thing I said about the store was so out of line -”

“Evan,” Connor interrupted. “It’s cool. Don’t worry about it. I appreciate the apology, but we’re alright. You don’t have to keep telling me that you’re sorry.”

Evan nodded. “If it matters… or whatever. Even if it doesn’t, uh. I’m not sleeping with anyone else either.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Evan let out a breath he had been holding since Connor arrived. “Hey Connor?”

“Hm?”

“You’re the best person I know too. In case that wasn’t, like. Clear.”

Connor smiled brightly.


	8. October (Eight Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You look like you’re in a mid-2000s emo boyband."

_“Hey Evan! Graham and I are going to be in town this weekend. Would you want to get a drink, catch up?”_

Evan stared at the text. A second one followed.

_“It would be really great to see you! And you could bring Connor along! It would be nice to see him again too.”_

Evan didn’t think that Sabrina and Connor had crossed paths much in high school. Then again, Evan and Sabrina hadn’t crossed paths much either. She had friends and people in high school. She hung out with people like Dana P. and Alana Beck and sometimes Zoe Murphy and Evan didn’t think they had a single conversation in high school. But they had gone to the same school for undergrad and took an English class together and Sabrina just sort of decided that she and Evan were friends and before long they were dating.

Evan chewed on his fingernail, saying he would be happy to meet up and that he’d ask Connor to come along.

Connor actually ended up turning up around one o’clock with recyclable containers full of Indian food. He did that sometimes, showed up randomly with food like he didn’t trust Evan to be able to feed himself.

Which was probably fair. He worked a lot. Sometimes he forgot to eat.

Either way, Connor was sitting on (yes, literally on) Evan’s desk, eating lamb vindaloo and telling him about how the bookstore was considering cosponsoring some local open mic nights, sometimes nudging Evan to get him to look up from the document he was reviewing before a court appearance the next morning. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, pulling his eyes away from his computer screen and finally diving into his food. “Sorry, I just… Sorry.” He tried to smile at Connor, and they sat in companionable silence for a little while before Evan gathered the courage to say, as fast as he could so he could just get it all out quicker,  “I’m having a drink with Sabrina and Graham and she wants you to come?”

Connor’s eyebrows raised, “Why the fuck would you want to have a drink with her?”

Evan shrugged. “I dunno, because… we’re trying to be friends?”

Connor was looking at him like maybe he had suggested it was because Sabrina was a Martian and he planned to kill her and perform an autopsy or something on that level of insanity. “But… she broke your heart.”

Evan blinked in surprise. That wasn’t exactly right. “I mean. No, it was… It was complicated.” He chewed his food thoroughly. Swallowed. Sabrina hadn’t broken his heart, he… he was the responsible party there, he was the one who called things off because he thought she seemed unhappy. “I broke up with her, actually? Did I… didn’t I say that?”

Connor was still looking at him like he was suggesting going skydiving without a parachute. Like he was thinking about embarking on something really seriously dangerous. “You found out she was engaged and jumped off a _roof_ , Evan.”

Evan looked around quickly to make sure nobody was listening in. The last thing he needed was for his coworkers to label him as the guy who thought he had died. “It wasn’t just. That wasn’t her fault, okay? I was under a lot of stress at the time with the bar and…  It just all sort of built up. Please don’t… It wasn’t her fault, okay?” Connor was still frowning. “Look are you going to come with me or not?”

“Uh, yes I’m coming, I’m not going to make you do this by yourself. Jesus fuck Evan.”

“Thanks for being so supportive,” Evan muttered.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“It’s just drinks,” Evan mumbled, feeling very annoyed that apparently Connor didn’t think he could even handle having a couple of drinks with Sabrina and Graham. Like, he wasn’t going to go off of the deep end just because he saw his ex girlfriend with her new fiance. Like. He knew the score and he was happy for her, he wasn’t jealous or terribly sad or anything. He had been doing the work (the frustrating, painful, sometimes tedious work) in therapy, he was on meds now, he tried to get at least six hours of sleep at night… He wasn’t the same wreck of a person he was back in February.

Seeing her would be fine. If he could see her while he was in the middle of dying and dying and taking the bar and dying without totally freaking out, he could handle getting a few drinks to catch up and meet her new fiance. He could handle it.

“What?”

Evan kind of aggressively stabbed at a piece of his food. “Nothing. You don’t have to come if you don’t want.” He looked back at the document he was reviewing.

“No, I want to come.” Connor gave Evan a smile. “I want to meet this mayonnaise ass Graham too.” He took another bite of his food, smiling. “I bet he’s bad in bed.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “That’s not fair.”

“Some people just give off a vibe, you know? He looks like a two pump chump.”

Evan almost choked on his food. “Connor I _work here_.”

Connor looked around, then rolled his eyes. “Everyone here is so focused. It’s quieter than the bookstore, and that’s _supposed_ to be quiet.”

“We’re busy.”

“What I’m getting at is that guy has never tied anyone to a bed, and it shows.”

“Well maybe she’s tied him to a bed,” Evan said, genuinely annoyed. “Sabrina has standards.”

“Yeah man and she traded down.” Then Connor’s eyes lit up. “Wait, does that mean… Did she -”

“Yes, okay? Obviously,” Evan said fast because he was in his place of business where he did actual important work as a real life lawyer and he really did not need all of his coworkers hearing about the times Sabrina and Evan had played around with restraints.

Connor’s eyes went sort of dark and blank and Evan was certain that he was thinking about incorporating that into their own sex life.

Evan rolled his eyes. “I’m not letting you come with me if you’re going to be like this.”

“You can’t deny he looks like he’s boring!” Connor said, having apparently come back to himself.

“Fine, he looks kind of vanilla, whatever,” He said, frowning. “Sabrina likes him and that’s the important part.”

“I still don’t get why-” Evan glowered at Connor who promptly stopped talking.

“I’ll let you know when we’re going,” Evan said. “If you promise to behave yourself.”

“I’ll be a very good boy, sir, promise.”

Evan felt his face heat up so fast he was surprised he had blood left in any other part of his body.  He cleared his throat and changed the subject pointedly, bringing up Halloween and how Mattie and Alex were trying to drag him to go see _The Rocky Horror Picture Show._

“Could be fun.”

“I’ve never been,” Evan said. “And I know they make a big deal out of people who have never been and then there’s like…audience participation. It just sounds like my nightmare.”

“I could see you rocking a corset and heels.”

“Fuck off,” Evan said, laughing. “Do you have have Halloween plans?”

“Working?” Connor said. “I’ve managed not to get scheduled every other year because Gladys and Martha go hard and insist on costumes but…”

“Now you’re trying to buy the place,” Evan said, smiling.

“I can’t bail on it or I’ll be accused of wrecking everyone’s fun.”

“What’s the theme?”

“Same as every year. Literary characters or whatever.”

“I could see you as a sexy Edgar Allan Poe,” Evan said, smirking. “Victorian suit on top, fishnets on the bottom.”

Connor balled up his napkin and threw it at Evan’s head. “I thought this was a workplace.”

“Yeah but you don’t work here,” He quipped, smiling. Then he checked his watch. “Shit, I’ve got a meeting in ten.”

“I should get back anyway,” Connor said. “Let me know when drinks are?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

 

Evan had a hard time focusing that afternoon. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint what was bothering him until he got home and saw that Connor had texted him saying, _“So I’m going to need some details about you being tied to a bed,”_ that it dawned on him what was up.

Connor didn’t want him seeing Sabrina because Connor thought Evan couldn’t handle it. He thought Evan was pathetic and that he would fall apart if he saw Sabrina. And Evan…

Well he honestly didn’t know if that would happen because. Last time he saw Sabrina, he had died. But it hadn’t been… bad. It hadn’t been bad because of anything to do with her, really. She had been very kind to him, all things considered. And he was genuinely happy for her. They had talked - on the phone even - a few times since she had gotten engaged. He wanted to see her.

But maybe that was what made him so pathetic. Wanting to talk to and hang out with his ex, especially after the way he had acted when she first got engaged. He could see what that must look like.

He and Marcia had talked it over. Several times. To the point where Evan could talk about the end of things with Sabrina without even flinching.

The short version was that he knew he was doing badly and he couldn’t accept that she wanted him to get help because he just wanted to be fine, to fix it and move on. And he realized that wasn’t going to work, not with her, so he cut things off before it got worse. He had been miserable and it had hurt a lot but he imagined it was better than the alternative.

Marcia had pressed him, asking what the alternative was.

It took months to finally bring himself to admit that he had been suicidal for most of his relationship with her and that he had ended things thinking he might spare her feelings when he eventually gave up.

And that was a really fucking hard thing to admit. To admit that.. February wasn’t a blip or an accident or a moment of temporary insanity. It was premeditated. Evan had been planning it for months. He had asked to see the roof when he first toured the apartment, under the pretense of wanting to see the small patio space set up there which Alex had said was never used. He had researched how high of a fall was necessary to die. He had planned it all out, he had written up and had a will notarized, he had been slowly but surely deleting all of his internet history even as he studied and geared up for the bar…

It was like he was working behind the scenes of his own life to end it.

And then when it happened, the universe had other plans. Time got strange and it saved him. Evan hadn’t exactly appreciated the methods, but. He hadn’t stayed dead. That felt important.

Because.

The thing was that… Evan didn’t want to kill himself anymore.

At least… Most of the time Evan didn’t want to kill himself. He did sometimes get a bit overwhelmed at the idea that he was expected to just keep on living, keep on doing this, whatever it was, until he got old and kicked it permanently. And sometimes Evan got really tired, like so tired that he sort of wished he could take a month long nap or a short coma, just to catch up on sleep, just to rid his bones of that achy exhaustion he never seemed to shake.  

He couldn’t exactly claim that he always wanted to live.

But Evan didn’t actively want to die anymore.

He hadn’t really told anyone that. Partly because he was afraid if he did, someone might accuse him of having never wanted to die at all. But. He didn’t want to die.

He had done enough dying to know it wasn’t any better than living. He had done enough dying to know there was no relief that followed. Maybe that wasn’t true of all deaths, but it was true of his and of Connor’s and while it wasn’t the most Mentally Healthy or Stable thought in his head, not wanting to die because dying meant reliving and re-dying was a pretty strong motivation to keep going, keep pushing through.

Maybe someday he would get to a point where living was so good that he couldn’t fathom dying. But that wasn’t this day, this moment, so instead he focused on wanting to not die. That was enough for him, for now.

So it bugged him that Connor didn’t… see that. That to Connor, Evan might as well be the same mess from that rooftop in February. That he thought Evan had been up there in the first place because of Sabrina, not that the chain of events that had led to her getting engaged to someone else had started with the fact that Evan wanted to throw himself off of a roof.

And Connor didn’t see that he was different and that… sucked.

It really sucked.

He didn’t like that.

He _hated_ that.

The next day, Connor asked Evan to come over after work, and Evan half expected to arrive and find that he’d purchased some restraints on Prime Now in that time (even though Connor claimed to hate Amazon).

But instead of Connor greeting him by literally dragging him to bed, Evan found himself greeted by a Connor who looked sort of pale and concerned and who sat him down on his sofa in his new apartment. “What’s up?” Evan asked, trying to keep his voice light, trying not to reveal that he definitely felt like he was about to get dumped and that was a wildly inappropriate feeling to have about your platonic best friend who you slept with sometimes (all of the time).

“Did I… I feel like I fucked up when we talked yesterday at lunch,” Connor said.

“Oh,” Evan said, surprised.

“It just felt like you were… angry. At me.”

Evan rubbed a hand over his face. “Kind of?” He knew he was frowning and tried to stop it. “I just. The thing you said about Sabrina… I didn’t.” He stopped feeling the words catch in his throat. He swallowed. Cleared his throat. Tried again. “I didn’t jump because she got engaged, Connor.”

“I… I know that,” Connor said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It just.” Evan twisted his fingers in the end of his tie, feeling his face heating up from shame and embarrassment. “I’ve been trying really hard to not be the person I was when… The person I was in February. And it sort of hurt that you think I’m still that pathetic, that I can’t handle seeing her on my own.”

“Dude,” Connor said, and he winced like he was in pain. “I think you’re the furthest thing from pathetic. I just really don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Evan frowned, considering this. That… wasn’t what he was expecting.

“I’m probably being sort of… overly protective or whatever,” Connor admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m not great at this whole friend thing.”

Evan nodded, the knots in his stomach untwisting just a little. He untangled his hands from the end of his tie, tried to breathe a little. “I think you’re doing okay,” Evan said after a while. “Not that I’d really know, but. I think you’re doing good.”

“Thanks,” Connor said, nodding, like he was reassuring himself. “Just. I mean I worry about you sometimes because I know this had been a fucking intense year. And I don’t mean to be fucking condescending or whatever. I just want you to be okay.”

“Okay.”

“And you’re my friend and I… Of course I’ll go with you. Okay? Is that okay? I can not go if you think it would be weird now.”

“No, please still come with me,” Evan said. “I am. Pretty nervous about seeing her. And it would be cool if you two could meet.”

“Dude, I sat behind her in Algebra,” Connor said, rolling his eyes. “We’ve met.”

“Meet her again then.”

“Okay,” Connor said. “But I can’t promise that I’ll like her.”

“Just be polite.”

 

* * *

“You look kind of green,” Connor said, looking at Evan with something like concern. They were waiting just outside, having turned up a little bit early, for Sabrina and Graham to arrive.

“I’m fine,” Evan said in a voice that betrayed just how utterly nervous he was. He smoothed a hand over the front of his shirt.

Connor narrowed his eyes a bit. “Come with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Just come on.” Connor pulled Evan out of the doorway of the bar and around the corner and around the block and Evan had this sudden thought pop into his head that maybe Connor was going to try to convince him to have sex behind a building or something sort of insane, but then he dropped Evan’s wrist and said, “You want a cigarette.”

Evan let out a breath. “Yeah.” He had been trying to quit off and on all year, and he figured at least he could not smoke on the way to see Sabrina because she was judgy about it. But he was kind of genuinely freaking out and it was a weird ritual and Connor was, mercifully, not even judging him.

And it suddenly occurred to Evan that nobody he cared about had ever actually _seen_ him smoke. People from law school, sure, and the study group he had been part of for the bar, definitely. Strangers on the streets and people outside of bars, but never… Never someone who actually knew him. Evan always hid it. Washed his hands immediately, had a mint, snuck around like a teenager afraid of getting caught. He was careful. Hell, Connor only probably knew because Evan was sure sometimes he still tasted like an ashtray.

It felt weird and wrong and like he ought to ask Connor to turn his back.

But he didn’t because well… he did this and he wasn’t proud of it but what was the point in hiding it? Connor already knew.

Evan did turn his back against the wind though and he did kind of try to put some extra space between him and Connor because he didn’t want to like secondhand smoke all over his friend who was doing him a huge solid and coming along to get drinks with Evan’s ex girlfriend.

Connor was looking at him weirdly. “What are you going to order when we get inside?” He asked.

“Uh. Alcohol? Several,” Evan said, trying to exhale away from Connor.

“Come on,” Connor said. “I’ll probably go for whisky myself.”

Evan nodded. “Why do you want to know what I’ll order?”

“Because you always pick out something on the menu at a new place before we go, and I’m curious what you picked.”

Evan didn’t know Connor had caught on to that, but he definitely felt weird about him characterizing it as, like, an endearing quirk. He did is so he wouldn’t make a fool of himself ordering, get all anxious and freak out over the menu. “I dunno. A martini or something?”

“I don’t get why you like vodka. It doesn’t taste like anything.”

Evan shrugged. “There’s vermouth in it too? I dunno.” He took a drag. Exhaled.

“Do you take yours ‘shaken, not stirred’?”

Evan wrinkled his nose. “Okay, James Bond is an idiot. You don’t want to shake a martini, but especially a gin martini, first off, because it bruises the alcohol. Makes it bitter. And it dilutes the drink too. He’s drinking a shitty, bitter, weak martini. Which I guess makes sense since he’s like doing a bunch of spy shit and probably shouldn’t be drunk but _still_.”

Connor smiled at him. “Why do you know that?”

Evan shrugged. “I looked it up.”

“How come?”

Evan didn’t want to say that he looked it up because his dad was really into James Bond and he was trying to make conversation when he had come to town for Evan’s law school graduation, but in the end he did not make it into town for the graduation because Evan’s half sister came down with the chicken pox and it seemed really stupid to bring up his Daddy Issues right now because they were focusing on his Ex Issues. “My dad likes James Bond movies,” He said, shrugging. “Also my mom’s not much of a drinker, so I did a lot of research before I turned twenty one. Just so I wouldn’t seem like an idiot at bars.”

“What was your first legal drink?” Connor asked him.

Evan laughed. “I bought two whiskey cokes.”

“For you and…?”

“Sabrina.”

“How long were you guys together?” Connor asked and Evan thought he had mentioned it before but maybe Connor had forgotten or something.

“About four years.”

“Right.” Connor shifted his jaw and Evan had a weird feeling, just for a split second, that Connor might be jealous.

He blinked and it was gone. Weird. Evan finished his cigarette and properly disposed of the butt and he and Connor headed back toward the bar and a moment after they reached the doors, Evan heard Sabrina’s voice behind him.

“Evan!”

He turned around fast, smiling a little. “Hey Sabrina.”

She was wearing that bright yellow jacket again. When she pulled him in for a hug, she smelled exactly the same. She was always very specific about using this perfume that smelled basically like candy. She called it her signature scent.

Her hair was curled and she was wearing a flashy lipstick, but she looked about the same. Same big, white toothed smile, same warm brown skin, same curves and delicate hands and wrists.

“Okay, Evan… this is Graham. Graham, Evan.” She looked between them a little nervously, like someone might start throwing punches.

“Nice to meet you,” Evan said, extending his hand to shake Graham’s.

“Likewise.”

Behind him, Evan heard Connor cough and he knew, he just _knew_ that Connor had coughed to cover up a laugh because he could basically hear Connor’s voice in his head saying, _“What kind of mayonnaise monster actually says ‘likewise’?”_

“Sabrina, you remember Connor from high school,” Evan said.

“We had algebra together!” She said, smiling and then shaking Connor’s hand. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Thanks.” He held his out again to shake Graham’s. “Connor.”

“Graham.”

Evan smiled awkwardly at all of them, and true to form, Sabrina just smiled and charged ahead, opening the door to the bar and walking inside. Within seconds they were tucked into a dimly lit little corner, considering drink menus. 

“So,” Sabrina said once they had all ordered their drinks. “Evan, god, tell us all about your new job! Well… not exactly new, but new since the last time I saw you new. How do you like it?”

“It’s good,” Evan said, smiling awkwardly. “Busy. We’re busy. I’m one of three new people they’ve brought on just because the case load is getting a little out of control.”

“Any interesting clients?” Graham asked and Connor kicked Evan lightly in the shin as if that somehow proved his case that Graham was really boring.

“A few. I’m actually the lead on this case where this manufacturer was dumbing their illegal run off water in a creek on a farm upstate and… This is probably very boring,” Evan said because he was sure they were all tuning out, hoping he would shut up because Evan was also currently hoping he would shut up.

“The bastard company kept dumping waste water illegally and now Evan’s representing a family whose upstate farm had suffered because it. They have kids. He’s gonna make sure they make enough off of this case that they can afford to go to law school and sue them a second time,” Connor said proudly.

“I…” Evan cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m, I mean, they’ll probably settle out of court…”

“That is amazing Evan,” Sabrina said, smiling at him. “Obviously not the illegal waste water dumping part, but that you’re helping that family. That’s really great.”

He felt like his face was on fire.

Then Connor made it worse. “I know, right? He’s seriously been working his ass off on this case for a while and it’s just so cool that he’s doing something so important.”

“Yeah,” Graham said and it wasn’t unpleasant or rude or anything, just made it obviously that he was still there, and this was an absolutely terrible idea to agree to meet him because Evan didn’t have the energy to deal with this guy and his existence or his agreeing that it sounded like Evan was working hard because he didn’t fucking need approval from fucking Graham.

“So, Sabrina, how is teaching?” Evan said a little too loudly.

Her face went a bit soft and she smiled. “My class this year is… it’s challenging? But all of my kids are such good kids, you know? Like they are genuinely all so sweet.”

Graham sort of smiled at her while she talked and Evan sort of felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach because he didn’t think he had ever paid that close of attention to her talking about her job and felt immediately stupid and small and guilty about that. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why had he acted like being in law school was somehow more important than educating children? Fuck, Evan was an asshole.

He felt Connor’s foot kick him in the ankle. Evan blinked and realized that he was not only not listening to Sabrina, but he had shredded the paper napkin that had come with his drink.

“You good?” Connor mouthed at him.

Evan nodded.

Sabrina was saying something about teaching a book about the Revolutionary War where a girl named Ellen disguised herself as a boy and delivered a message to George Washington, and Connor’s face lit up. “ _Toliver’s Secret._ I loved that book as a kid,” He said.

Sabrina’s smile got broader. “What’s your take on the crossdressing narrative?”

Connor looked thoughtful. “I think it’s equal parts a commentary on patriarchy and how a young girl wasn’t trusted to do this job without the so-called ‘protection’ of looking like a boy, and also a story where someone is able to play with gender presentation in a way that’s socially acceptable.”

“Exactly! It’s part of why I don’t want to stop teaching it to my kids,” Sabrina went on. “I feel a little weird about including something that’s got a bit of pro-war, ra-ra America sentiment in it -”

“Oh totally,” Connor chimed in. “But it introduces some new ideas about gender and accepted heteropatriarchal norms -”

“-In a way that ten year olds can understand, exactly!” Sabrina looked so fucking happy. “Do you teach?” She asked Connor.

“No, I just read a lot.” He shrugged, taking a drink.

“Connor’s the manager of a bookstore,” Evan piped up. “He’s going to take over as owner soon. He’s been setting up some cool partnerships with local schools.” He took a sip of his own drink. “Also he’s the co-founder of an indie publishing company.”

“Wow,” Sabrina said. “That’s amazing!”

Connor’s cheeks had gone a bit pink. “I uh. Yeah, I like books? I guess.”

Evan rolled his eyes, because Connor always downplayed this. “You don’t like books, you live for books. You called it a tragedy that I hadn’t gotten to read for fun in law school.”

“Because that _is_ a tragedy, Evan, fuck.”

“I’d have to agree,” Graham said, smiling. “But understandable. I barely read anything but academic journals when I was getting my MBA.”

“Oh don’t humblebrag, Graham,” Sabrina teased. “Let me do it for you. Graham has his MBA from Carnegie Mellon and he actually loves his job in finance. Like, loves it. Says he feels happy with it every day. Can you believe that shit? He’s happy every day. He’s basically a unicorn.”

“Babe,” Graham’s ears went pink and he nudged Sabrina, who looked unbothered by his slight embarrassment, and damn it now was Evan going to get stuck liking this guy? He was nice and not braggy and fuck this was such a bad idea. Connor was right, he should not have agreed to this.

“Did you know Evan passed the bar the first time he took it?” Connor said, clearly a bit too pleased with himself. “Most people don’t pass their first time. My dad’s been a lawyer for over twenty years, and he had to take it twice - _ow_ !” Connor looked alarmed and down at his leg, which Evan had kicked to shut him up because he was lying. He was bragging about Evan by lying. He didn’t take the bar _once_ , he took it six times but it wasn’t like he could be like “Oh no Sabrina, actually I died a lot so I just kept repeating the second day of the exam.”

“Everything okay?” Sabrina looked genuinely worried.

“Uh, yeah, I stubbed my toe against the table leg,” Connor said, shooting Evan a questioning look.

“That is really impressive,” Graham said. “Passing the bar I mean. Some of my buddies from undergrad went on to law school, and it’s no joke. I barely heard from them the entire summer.”

“Yeah, it was… a bit of an ordeal,” Evan said, trying to smile and totally failing. He felt like he might throw up. He didn’t want fucking Graham being nice to him. He didn’t want Connor trying to talk him up in front of Sabrina. And he definitely didn’t want her looking at him with her big concerned, oh-shit-something’s-up-with-Evan eyes because he hated that look he couldn’t stand seeing it and the whole fucking point of breaking up with her was so she’d quit looking at him like he was a helpless, drowning _thing._

“I need to pee,” Connor said at the same moment that Graham said he was going to the bar to get another drink and did anyone want anything? They sort of laughed at the awkward timing and Connor followed Graham away from the table, saying he’d help carry drinks back on his way back from the restroom.

And then Evan and Sabrina were alone at the table and the awkwardness of all of it just felt so heavy in air that he honestly wasn’t surprised when the first thing Sabrina said to him was, “You’re dating Connor Murphy.”

“What? No I’m not.”

Sabrina’s smile turned into a frown. “Why not? He clearly adores you.”

Evan had a sudden, vivid image of his own head exploding at this table, brains and blood going everywhere like some kind of Peter Jackson horror flick. He could not talk about this with her. He couldn’t just explain “well, gee, Sabrina my serious ex girlfriend, some of us just can’t handle being in romantic relationships because the pressure to succeed is so overwhelming that you fail spectacularly and end up digging yourself into a deeper pit than the one you started in and besides, adoration or not, Connor deserves so much better than someone as fucked up as me!”

“I can’t talk about this with you,” Evan said instead.

“Look, Ev, I know this is weird -” Sabrina stopped short like he might jump in and contradict her. But he didn’t. This whole thing was fucking weird. “I just want to see you happy.”

“And happy, of course, means I have to be with someone, right? Is that because you don’t want to feel guilty for moving on so fast or because you want there to be someone to keep an eye on me?”

“I didn’t say that,” She said, snapped, her eyes flashing. “You always. You just assume -”

“Here we are!” Graham said, oblivious, returning with a drink in each hand. Connor was right behind him, and he caught Evan’s eye, apparently immediately seeing that something was wrong because he started to say something and-

“Excuse me,” Evan said, and he was probably just going to leave at his point, like he genuinely couldn’t embarrass himself any further so might as well just be the asshole who left in the middle of catching up with his ex and her new fiance and her super fucking perfect new life without him in it. This was his fault. He had dumped her and he didn’t regret it because they weren’t right together, they didn’t fit together and they had outgrown each other and he thought, what, drinks would mean they could go back to being friends like they were before they had dated?

He walked outside, got about ten steps from the bar and found his pack of cigarettes in his pocket because killing himself a little was better than…

Whatever.

It didn’t matter.

He lit his cigarette and continued striding away from the bar, thinking he would just Venmo Connor the balance from his tab and just fucking go home and scream until he was hoarse or something fucking hell, she just made him so fucking angry, made him feel so stupidly inadequate and pathetic and Connor had been so right this fucking _hurt_.

It just fucking hurt.

“Hey!” Sabrina had followed him out. She looked pissed. The darkness outside drained all of the color out of her bright, floral dress and red lipstick and she looked… sad. Washed out. “You’re right okay! You’re right.”

“What about?” he said, not able to look at her head on.

“I’m fucking worried about you,” Sabrina said. “Evan, you just… You passed the bar and you’ve got a new job at a law firm where I’m sure you’re working like eighty hour weeks and none of our old friends have talked to you in like over a year and I’m fucking worried.”

“You’ve been checking up on me?” God he was so stupidly angry about that.

“Uh, yeah, because I still care about you.” She had her hands on her hips, and in the past that always meant she was about to give him the business, really lay into him. Fuck.  “I didn’t stop caring about you because we broke up. You were my best friend before we dated and then you just disappeared from my life. And you weren’t doing well, everyone who knew you knew you were struggling, and you cut everyone off and I’ve been worried. I’ve been worried for months and months that I was going to wake up to a fucking call from your mom telling me you were gone. Okay? I worried. I get to worry because I still love you, even if we’re not ‘in love’ anymore.”

Evan took a drag of his cigarette. He didn’t… he hated that she was fucking right. She was right… just a few months off. Half of him felt like he ought to just walk away, let her feel bad and go home and drink until he could go to sleep. But he had promised Connor he’d stop doing that. But this was Sabrina and as much as he hated her for it right now, she knew him pretty fucking well.  “You’re right.”

“What?”

“I was in pretty bad shape and so I’m… fucking dealing with it now, okay? And it sucks and I really don’t like that I just can’t… make myself better or normal or whatever. But I’ve got a therapist and I’m on some drugs and I’m working on it. Okay? You’re right. You were always right. But I’m working on it so don’t, like, keep yourself up at night worrying okay?”

“You have a therapist?” Sabrina said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Is it helping?”

“I guess?” He shrugged. “Marcia… that’s my therapist’s name, she’s kind of a hardass. Doesn’t let me ever get away with saying things are fine.”

“That’s good,” She said and she was sort of smiling. “That’s really good. I’m… I’m really glad.”

“Yeah.”

“Connor seems… I can tell he really cares about you.” She smiled slightly. “He basically told me to sit my ass down when I got up to follow you.”

Evan had to try really hard not to groan. “How’d you win that honor?”

“Oh, I can be scary,” Sabrina said, smiling, making her look like the least scary person in the entire universe. She looked like a fairy princess who everyone wanted to hug. “I stared him down.”

“Really?”

“Well…” She shrugged. “Graham was a wrestler in college, so I said I’d get him to body block Connor if he tried to leave.”

“ _Of course_ he was a fucking wrestler,” Evan said, shaking his head.

“I know, he is…. Very. Bro-y. So not my usual type.” She shrugged. “For what it’s worth? I really like Connor. He’s a good guy.”

“Yeah,” Evan said, feeling weird about telling her this. “He’s… really good. We’re both in, uh. In therapy? So that. Helps. Sometimes. To have someone who gets it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Evan took another drag on his cigarette. He was so embarrassed. Fucking hell. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. Not now. “Sorry I yelled and stormed out. And for smoking.”

“You always had a flair for the dramatic. Makes you a star in the courtroom though.” Sabrina smiled a little. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting this to be like the most fun evening of my life.” She shrugged. “I know where we left things wasn’t, like, _great_ , and. I… Graham has a job offer in the city. That’s why we’re here this weekend. We’ve been talking about moving back here, once the school year is over. And I just… I couldn’t picture being here, living here, and knowing you lived here without talking to you. I miss you, like, tons.”

“I miss you too,” Evan said, mumbled, because he did. He just didn’t like thinking about it.

“I know it’s weird,” Sabrina said. “It sucks. I want to just… skip the part where it’s weird and get back to being friends, you know?”

“Yeah,” Evan admitted because that was exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to just… not go through all of this. “I hate it.”

“You don’t like change.”

“I’m extremely predictable that way.” He took another drag. Stubbed his cigarette out and picked up the butt. “I… Sometimes it’s just easier if we don’t talk.”

“I know.” She frowned. “Can I tell you something?” She sucked in deep breath. “When I found out you were sitting the bar like, the day we got engaged? I felt like such a shithead. I thought you would have taken it in the summer. And then I found out and I freaked out. Like that must have felt so… intentional.” She twisted her engagement ring around her finger. “Graham and I had a big fight about it. And he thought I was like so fucking paranoid and I almost messaged you like seven times to apologize.”

Fuck. Evan felt like he had been punched. She… If she knew what could have, probably _should_ have happened the first time he took the bar, Sabrina would be crushed. He would have absolutely ruined this for her. Fucking hell. “Fuck, Sabrina you don’t have to apologize for getting engaged.”

“I know that,” She said. “And I’m not apologizing for _that_. But I still… If I had known…”

“You what? Would have thrown the ring off the top of the Empire State Building?”

“Oh god, I know, he’s so corny,” Sabrina said laughing suddenly. “But I mean, if I had known… I might have waited to put it on facebook.”

“I really am happy for you,” Evan said suddenly. “Graham seems really great.”

“Thanks. He is.” Sabrina smiled awkwardly at him. She took a deep breath, shaking her head. “I think we should hug and go inside and then call it a night, yeah?”

“Okay.”

“I think for a first outing, it could have been worse.”

“Probably could have been better too.”

Sabrina pulled him into a hug, not too tight or too long. Just a nice, solid hug. Evan wasn’t much of a hugger, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

 

 

* * *

Connor and Graham stand awkwardly with the drinks as Evan runs out and all Connor can think to himself is _this is a fucking shit show._

 

Connor’s not exactly surprised that it’s turned out to be a fucking shit show, but…

 

Well, he’d hoped, for Evan’s sake, that it would end up being an awkward but mostly okay kind of evening, because if Evan wants to try to be friends with his ex, Connor wants to support him.

 

He still feels pretty shitty about having upset Evan when he’d first told him about drinks with Sabrina and Graham. The look on Evan’s face at his apartment when Evan had said that Connor thought he was pathetic…

 

Connor never wants to see that look again. He’d hated it. So much.

 

Pathetic is never a word he’d use to describe Evan. Evan’s worked hard on his mental health. It’s been hard for Connor to watch him struggle and he’s tried to do everything he could to support his friend, but at the end of the day the person doing the majority of the work is Evan, and it’s paid off, and he honestly seems so much better.

 

Connor absolutely believes that Evan could have handled seeing Sabrina on his own, but he hadn’t wanted him to.

 

Connor doesn’t want Evan to have to do anything alone if there is any other option.

 

Connor puts the drinks down and goes to follow Evan, but there’s a hand on his arm. He looks at Sabrina, almost glares, and she’s frowning at him.

 

“I’ll go talk to him.”

 

“Not a chance,” Connor shoots back.

 

Sabrina narrows her eyes at him. “Look, we need to clear the air. I need to talk to him.”

 

Connor narrows his eyes right back. “Like I’m letting you go out there and upset him-”

 

“Look Connor, no offence but this has nothing to do with you,” Sabrina interrupts. She looks at Graham, who’s put the drinks he was holding down and is standing next to Sabrina like some kind of bargain basement bodyguard.

 

“He doesn’t need-”

 

“Evan and I need to talk,” Sabrina says, and she’s using this authoritative tone that probably works really well on fourth graders, “and you need to give us space to do that. Sit down.”

 

“I’m not going to-”

 

“If you try to leave this bar and come after us, Graham will body block you.”

 

Connor blinks. “What the fuck.”

 

“I was a wrestler in college,” Graham offers helpfully, though he looks a little embarrassed.

 

With that, Sabrina turns and all but runs out of the bar. Connor’s about to go to follow her, because fuck this, when Graham is honest-to-fuck bodily stopping him.

 

“Sit down and have a drink,” Graham says, and he sounds apologetic but firm. “I’m sure they won’t be long.”

 

Connor stares at him for a moment. Weighs up his chances of outrunning this guy and making it outside the bar before getting tackled.

 

Then he sits down and starts in on his whisky, because…

 

Well, what else is he going to do?

 

He has no idea what Evan and Sabrina were talking about, but he’s worried. He’s worried that Sabrina will say something that will upset Evan, that will set him back in all the progress he’s made, and it’s not that Connor doesn’t think that Evan can handle talking to Sabrina, it’s that he knows that Sabrina meant something to him, still means something to him, and he knows that when someone you care about upsets you it’s the worst feeling, and he honestly just wants Evan to be happy and healthy and he’d seemed so upset and…

 

Connor stands up.

 

Graham stands up as well.

 

“I don’t want to do it,” Graham says, his voice apologetic but matter-of-fact, “but I will tackle you if I have to.”

 

Connor sits down and finishes his whisky. Graham sits down, too, and he’s drinking beer, and he looks at Connor and offers a polite smile, and Connor offers one back, and…

 

Fuck.

 

This is awkward.

 

Fuck.

 

“So,” says Graham politely. “Do you play any sports?”

 

“Nope,” says Connor curtly. “Not even a little.”

 

“Right.”

 

They sit there in silence for a little longer, and Connor is just…

 

Fuck.

 

He’s stuck here in this stupid bar and he can’t leave and this stupid mayonnaise fucker is sitting there drinking his beer and trying to talk to him about sports, it’s just the fucking worst, and Evan and Sabrina are out there talking about god knows what and who knows what kind of shit she’s saying to him and Evan just looked so upset and Connor wants to know if he’s okay, needs to know if he’s okay because Evan is important to him, Evan is the whole reason he’s here in this stupid bar at this stupid booth with this Mr. Mayonnaise McSports who insisted on paying for the drinks because uggggggggggggh.

 

He spends a bit of time just holding his empty glass of whisky. Thinks about going to the bar to get another drink, but there’s no way fucking Graham is going to let him do that, so…

 

Fuck it.

 

He picks up Evan’s martini and takes a sip.

 

Martinis are fucking disgusting, but he keeps drinking, because if he keeps drinking then he doesn’t have to try to make conversation with Wrestling Banker Ken Doll over here.

 

After what feels forever, Connor spots Sabrina walking toward the table, Evan not far behind her. They look… okay. Evan looks better than he did, but Connor is still fucking worried.

 

“I think we should head out, Graham,” says Sabrina, her voice even, and Graham picks up her stuff like a dutiful lapdog and Connor finishes the last of Evan’s martini. Sabrina looks at him smiles. “It was nice seeing you again, Connor.”

 

Connor resists the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“Nice meeting you,” says Graham to Connor. He turns to Evan. “You too.”

 

And with that, Sabrina and Graham head out of the bar, leaving Evan standing there at the edge of the table. Connor stands up immediately, looking Evan up and down almost like he’s checking for injuries. “Are you fucking okay?” he demands.

 

“I’m fine,” says Evan, and Connor knows he’s lying. After a moment, Evan shrugs. “Fine, I’m not.” He looks… exhausted. “I don’t… could you please not tell me ‘I told you so’ right now?”

 

Connor’s chest hurts. “That’s not… I wouldn’t,” he assures Evan, and Evan just looks so tired and Connor’s chest hurts even more.

 

This is a fucking shit show.

 

* * *

Evan followed Sabrina back inside. Graham and Connor were both sort of awkwardly staring at each other, and Connor was drinking what appeared to be Evan’s vodka martini. He immediately felt guilty for abandoning him alone with Graham. This had genuinely been a huge disaster. Evan felt terrible.

“I think we should head out, Graham,” Sabrina said, and there was no malice in her voice, no disdain. She was just wanted to leave and he got up to go with her, handing her her jacket and bag. “It was nice seeing you again, Connor,” She said, smiling at him.

“Nice meeting you,” Graham said to Connor, then Evan. And then he followed Sabrina out of the bar.

Connor got up fast, his face drawn. “Are you fucking okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Connor frowned at him.

“Fine, I’m not.” Evan shrugged. “I don’t… could you please not tell me ‘I told you so’ right now?”

“That’s not… I wouldn’t.”

“How much do I owe you for the drink?”

“I drank it,” Connor said, rolling his eyes. “And Mr. Mayonnaise Ass McSports paid for the drinks.”

“Fuck.” Now Evan owed Sabrina’s fiance fucking money.

“He’s annoyingly nice.”

“I fucking know,” Evan said. “It would be so much easier if I could just hate him.” He rubbed a hand over his face roughly, trying to rub away the evidence of having any feelings in any direction about this night. “I just… I think I’m just going to go home,” Evan said after a moment. “Thanks for coming. I’m sorry it was such a fucking… _joke_.” His voice broke on “joke.”

“Let me walk you home,” Connor said, like he was deciding something.

“I’m fine. You don’t have to…”

“You’re not fine, and I’m doing it. Okay?”

“I’m not gonna fucking cry or freak out or anything,” Evan said bitterly.

“That’s fine. You do you.” He looped an arm around Evan’s shoulders. “I don’t know how to drink vodka martinis man. They are seriously gross.”

“ _You’re_ seriously gross.”

Connor laughed. “Graham did threaten to tackle me if I tried to follow you guys.”

“I know. Sabrina told me. He was a _wrestler._ ”

“Gross,” Connor said. “Did you… talk or whatever? You and Sabrina?”

“Yeah,” Evan said. He felt sort of twitchy and uncomfortable with Connor’s arm around his shoulder so he stepped out from under it. “It sort of sucked. If… I hadn’t even thought about how, if I… how she would have found out…”

“Hey,” Connor said, stopping. Evan kept going. Connor caught up fast, long legs making Evan look like he walked like an elderly, arthritis plagued grandfather. “Evan.”

“Forget it, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Sabrina would have dropped it, gotten frustrated and said he never wanted to talk about things, left.

Connor wasn’t like her. “Well too fucking bad,” He said. “Because you’re kind of scaring me right now.”

“I just. I would have just really fucked things up for her if I had stayed dead,” Evan said. “She had just gotten engaged, she was happy… I. I didn’t even think about how she might have reacted… or maybe I wanted to hurt her? I…Just feel like. More shitty about it right now, alright?”

“I’m gonna hug you,” Connor said after a second. “Okay?”

Evan nodded. It was a record for him, three hugs in one night. Who even was he anymore?

Evan would never admit to this, not even with a gun to his head, but he actually really loved it when Connor hugged him. Something about it just sapped away some of the heaviness and anxiety Evan carried around. Plus, Connor always smelled nice which was a bonus. Evan had spent ages trying to work out why he, a person who didn’t care much for hugs, liked hugging Connor so much and he never quite landed on a satisfactory answer. Maybe it was because Connor was tall? Or because he never squeezed too tight? Whatever it was, Evan actually liked hugging Connor… for someone who didn’t like hugs. Something about this one made him feel a lot better after. Lighter. Like he didn’t have to carry around the hurt and guilt by himself.

Maybe that was why he liked hugging Connor. Because it made him feel less alone.

Connor walked him home in the end. Which Evan appreciated. It was nice to have someone who would look out for sidewalk cellars and manholes and rogue busses for you. Connor walked him all the way up to his apartment, like maybe he didn’t believe Evan was actually intending to head inside. It made Evan’s throat feel suddenly tight, recalling Connor following up all of those flights of stairs to the roof, just a few steps behind him the whole way.

At Evan’s door, he found his voice again, “I know it’s kind of against the… like we don’t normally do it, but, do you… would you stay over?” Connor looked surprised. “Is that too much? I just. If it is that’s fine, I just.” Evan sucked in a deep breath because this was embarrassing, he didn’t want to admit to it, “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’ll stay,” Connor said, something in his face softening. “Fuck, yeah, of course I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” Evan said, not quite able to meet Connor’s eye. He busied himself with unlocking the door. He felt…

He was just really lucky to have a friend like Connor. Really fucking lucky. Whatever the fuck had glitched in the universe to make him die like twenty times was an asshole, but it had brought Connor into his life. It had gotten that one thing very right and everything else extremely wrong. But Evan was grateful for the one right thing, grateful that not only was he not alone anymore, but the person who he spent most of his time with was truly awesome.

They walked to Evan’s room quietly, not bothering to turn on any lights in the halls or living room. They had done this before, sneaking around in the dark, stumbling around drunkenly.

This was different.

“Can I borrow something else to sleep in?” Connor asked. “I don’t know what I was thinking with these jeans, they are extremely uncomfortable.”

Evan tried not to smile too much because he knew precisely why the jeans were uncomfortable but he figured since he had asked Connor to stay over for non-sex related reasons, it would be weird if he brought up that the jeans were too tight in the crotch. It would also be weird to mention that Evan knew Connor had taken extra care to look good tonight, and if it were any other night, Evan would be all over him right now.

He grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for Connor.

“I’m just gonna… bathroom,” Connor said, taking the clothes.

Alone in his bedroom, Evan changed into his own pajamas. The majority of his sleepwear were old college and law school shirts and sweats. He pulled out a worn out Ohio State t-shirt that had changed custody a few times. Evan thought it might have originally been his roommate Mark’s his first year, but it ended up with his stuff when they moved out of the dorms and then Evan had passed to Sabrina who had stretched out the chest, and somehow when they broke up it wound up in his things…

Evan put it back in the drawer, instead pulling out an old Speech and Debate Team t-shirt with a hole in the collar. He changed quickly, then headed into the kitchen to see if he had anything to drink that he could offer Connor.

And naturally found Mattie standing there in her underwear and a blue scrub top. She jumped when he walked in. “Shit, Evan, I did not hear you come in.”

“Sorry,” He said.

“Connor with you?” She asked and for the millionth time Evan really wished his roommates did not know he was sometimes fucking his best friend. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet.

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“Of course, man, you live here too,” She said smiling. “I just would have worn pants if I was expecting company.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor said, appearing behind them in the kitchen. “My old roommate Andi was basically always half naked. I’m so used to it. Your tits could be out and I probably wouldn’t even notice, ” He walked up to Evan, accepting the glass Evan had automatically extended, and it did something very strange to Evan’s insides to see Connor wearing Evan’s NYU School of Law t-shirt. It was a bit big on him (Evan was broader than Connor was), but Connor’s bony ankles stuck out from the cuffs of Evan’s sweatpants and Evan was just sort of crushed with affection for Connor who was wearing Evan’s ill fitting pajamas and standing in his kitchen because Evan didn’t want to be alone.

Plus he looked really cute wearing Evan’s clothes. They showed off his nice forearms and bony ankles and when he reached over Evan’s head to grab a bottle of rum sitting in the liquor cabinet, a small strip of the pale skin of Connor’s stomach.

Fuck.

“This work for you?” Connor asked and Evan stared at him, dumbfounded, because like they did _not_ come on to each other in front of other people. It took him an embarrassingly long moment, his face suddenly hot and his throat dry, to realize Connor was talking about the rum.

“Yeah. Great.”

“Night Mattie,” Connor said. He took the rum bottle and headed to Evan’s bedroom.

“Night,” She said after him, then smirked at Evan and headed into her own room.

“Night,” He said, feeling weirdly breathless and out of sorts. He headed to his own bedroom and found Connor sitting on the bed, holding a short glass with rum in it. He smiled at Evan, like he was happy to see him, and Evan’s guts twisted harder, tighter.

“I have to ask,” Connor said. “Did Sabrina say something that upset you? Do I need to kick her ass? I’m a feminist but I will kick a girl’s ass.”

“No she didn’t…” He was lying. Evan was trying to stop lying so much. “No, fuck, that’s a lie. Sorry.  She said she was worried about me. And that really fucking sucked.”

Connor took a drink of the rum. “Why does that suck?”

“Because the whole point was so… I didn’t want her to worry. I didn’t want anyone to have to worry about me.” He took the bottle of rum out of Connor’s hands and took a long pull. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“I get it. It can be stressful when people get worried.” Connor wasn’t quite meeting Evan’s eye.

“What?” Evan said.

“I just mean. I get it.” He took another drink. “Sometimes I worry about you too.”

“That’s because I do dumb fucking shit like give myself alcohol poisoning and cry on you.” Evan swallowed hard because he wasn’t sure they were joking about that yet.

“Don’t forget dying in front of me,” Connor retorted and Evan sort of smiled. “I am allowed to worry as much as I fucking want.”

“I guess.” Evan stole the rum back. “Does that mean I get to worry about you?”

“Hell no,” Connor said, smiling, nudging Evan gently with his elbow. “You worry too much already. You should absolutely not worry about me. I’m fine.”

Evan privately thought he would keep worrying.

Connor sighed.

“Huh?” Evan asked.

“Well I really fucking wanted to hate her,” Connor said. “Sabrina. But apparently she and I have a lot in common. Other than being interested in tying you to beds, of course.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Fuck off.”

Connor laughed a little. “I’m kidding. Mostly. I guess I… I don’t know what I was expecting. I mean, I should have known that you didn’t have awful taste in people, but I… I guess I just worried.”

“Worried she would be a huge bitch?” Evan said.

“Basically, yeah,” Connor said, smiling a bit.

Evan took another drink of rum. “Fucking Graham though, right?”

“I know. It’s like she picked him out of a catalogue.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck.”

They went on like that for a while, debriefing on the evening, complaining about things that they didn’t really care about, drinking until the bottle was almost gone.

“Thanks for staying.”

“Of course.”

“I can take the couch,” Evan said after a while.

“Or I could take the couch, since this is your bed.”

“Or I could take the couch, since I’m the one who begged you to stay over.”

“Or… maybe we could just go the fuck to sleep,” Connor said.

“Wouldn’t that be weird?” Evan asked. He didn’t know who he was asking for.

“Nothing we haven’t done before,” Connor said, shrugging. “Just maybe nobody runs out in the middle of the night this time? Or at least, we avoid waking up covered in Chinese takeout?”

Evan felt his face get slightly warm. “No promises.”

Before long, Connor switched off the light.

Before long, Evan’s hand reached across the blankets and slipped into Connor’s, fingers intertwining, and this was against literally all of the rules but Evan squeezed Connor’s hand anyway. “You doing okay?” Connor asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Connor dropped off to sleep not long after, his hand going limp in Evan’s, but Evan didn’t let go because he was scared if he did he might slip off of the face of the earth, disappear into the in-between.

He didn’t want to let go of Connor’s hand and he knew why. He knew it was all over his face no matter how hard he tried to shut it down, hide it away, because he wasn’t ready for it, he wasn’t ready.

Sabrina could tell too. _“You’re dating Connor Murphy.”_

He wasn’t. But maybe if he were better, if he were less… If he were better, maybe he would be.

* * *

 

Evan usually regretted the vast majority of social outings he participated in. He just. Was not a social person, really, because of the crippling anxiety and the sweating and the somewhat constant fear that he might blurt out in a normal conversation that he knew what dying felt like and there were no warm white lights or harps.

So the fact that he was out, in a gay bar, with his roommates, around Halloween, wearing eyeliner and a giant red lipstick V on his face immediately following seeing The Rocky Horror Picture Show and he didn’t hate everything about it was honestly impressive.

Perhaps more impressive was somehow Evan had coaxed Connor into coming out with them.

“That’s quite the look you’re rocking,” Connor said, smiling at him.

“Alex wouldn’t let me out of the house without it,” Evan answered, grinning back. “Is it bad?”

“No, I like it! It’s hot!”

Evan smirked, actually smirked, at Connor and then Alex came over and dragged them both out onto the dance floor. Normally, Evan was way too self conscious to go out and dance like this. It was a big complaint of Sabrina’s when they were dating, because he got far too embarrassed and aware that he didn’t know what to do with his arms when dancing happened.

But Alex was sort of jumping around and her hair was whirling around her and Mattie was dancing like she thought she was being sexy but also it was sort of a joke and Evan was in a crowded room but he wasn’t alone and that was great. Connor was actually a pretty good dancer, honestly. Evan was surprised because Connor was… pretty noodley. But he had a good sense of rhythm and didn’t look self conscious about the whole thing, in contrast to Evan who looked like some kind of half-embarrassed, slightly intoxicated Peanuts character. Connor was by no means a professional dancer, but Evan found him surprisingly not awkward on a dance floor, considering how many times he was murdered by stairs.

Evan knew exactly none of the songs this place was playing, but Connor seemed to know some of them because sometimes Evan would look up and catch Connor’s lips moving along to the words and that was. Adorable. Super fucking cute.

_Shit. Focus Evan. No weird squishy feelings._

Alex had managed to become friends with a shot boy clad only in angel wings and hot pants, and she was using this newfound friendship to make sure they were always the first stop on his rounds through the bar. Shot Boy, whose name Evan didn’t know or bother learning, kept eyeing Connor with interest. Or so Evan thought until he slid next to Evan himself, putting an arm around Evan’s waist and telling him he liked Evan’s makeup.

“Uh. Thanks? My roommate did it?”

He offered Evan an extra shot on him, and Evan was about to accept but then he realized this dude… wanted him to take a body shot off of his abs, like literally _on him_ ,  and well, frankly, Evan thought that seemed like a waste of alcohol and while he tried to stutter his way through politely declining, Connor had hooked an arm around Evan’s shoulders and saved him from the naughty angel.

“That guy -” Connor started, and he looked almost apologetic like he had maybe clocked how that might have been seen as cockblocking.

“I am not looking to give myself alcohol poisoning again, that was not fun,” Evan said like obviously that’s what they were talking about, yep, what guy?

“Good plan,” Connor said, and his smile was back, and they started to dance again and the angel boy faded quickly from Evan’s mind.

Evan thought he had probably never danced his much in his life. The handful of bar mitzvahs and school dances he had attended as a kid were characterized mostly by Evan sticking close to the wall, trying to disappear while simultaneously trying to catch the attention of someone, literally anyone. He almost went to prom with Jared Kleinman senior year of high school, but their weird “we sometimes make out and once I gave you a handjob” thing had already fizzled out before any tuxes could be rented. Sabrina loved to dance but Evan was weird and sweaty and awkward so normally he just sort of ducked out when dancing was on the table.

But it was actually pretty fun, with Alex and Mattie and Connor. He wasn’t, like, totally devoid of anxiety but he also wasn’t trying to get shitfaced to make himself relax so. That was good.

A lot of the other folks around them were in costumes, and when Evan and Connor headed to the bar to get another round of drinks (water, for Evan, because alcohol poisoning really was no joke and he knew he was already kinda drunk) they encountered a pair of Draculas arguing because one of them seemed to have wandering fangs.

“I saw that angel shot boy hitting on you!” The taller Dracula said, “You were all over him.”

“He was kind of all over you too, earlier,” Connor said close to Evan’s ear and Evan shivered slightly.

“He just said he liked my makeup,” Evan said, faux innocently.

“I like it too,” Connor said, smirking. “You look like you’re in a mid-2000s emo boyband.”

“So I came dressed as your middle school wet dream then?” Evan teased and Connor playfully shoved him. Someone stumbled into Connor from behind, and then he and Evan were pressed against each other, chest to chest.

“You really do look hot like that,” Connor said and he sounded a little bit breathless.

“Yeah, that shot boy really seemed to think so,” Evan said, smiling up at Connor, invading his personal space a little further.

“Do you uh… want to get out of here?” Connor asked.

“I don’t see why we have to leave,” Evan said and then he walked away, nodding his head less-than-subtly toward the row of single stall bathrooms along the back wall. He intentionally didn’t look back, because he hoped this was driving Connor nuts, he hoped this was driving Connor crazy, so Evan kept his eyes forward and picked out the first bathroom that said “vacant” and stepped inside, flicking on the lights as he did. The bathroom mercifully didn’t have any weird smells or vomit or people doing lines of coke inside, which was certainly something to behold in a gay bar in New York. Potentially a literal miracle.

The door opened a second later and Connor was there and Evan could see he was hard already through his jeans and he sort of laughed, saying, “Are we seriously doing this?”

And Evan pinned Connor back against the door, kissing him hard while reaching for the lock to make sure they weren’t interrupted. He moved one hand to unbuckle Connor’s belt and Connor’s hands did the same, and Evan bit Connor’s lip lightly as Connor, slightly ahead in the coordination race, reached into Evan’s underwear to stroke him.

“Fuck,” Connor mumbled against Evan’s lips and Evan just had to kiss him again, he had to, his hands busy cupping Connor greedily, because he had to touch him he couldn’t wait.

“Want to blow you,” Evan said as Connor was kissing his neck. Connor pulled away, looking at Evan, eyes half lidded and his face flushed. “You should let me.”

Connor groaned, and Evan kissed him again, hard, and then pulled away, keeping his eyes fixed on Connor as he dropped to his knees.

“Fuck, Evan, you look so hot like that,” Connor said and Evan smirked, raising his eyebrows, and then placing wet kisses on Connor’s stomach, pulling his jeans and underwear down, exposing Connor’s hard cock. He kissed and licked his way across Connor’s bony hip, and Connor hissed and Evan stopped. Looked back up at Connor, making sure their eyes were locked as he took the tip of Connor’s cock into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the slit and Connor groaned, his hand tangling in Evan’s hair and Evan liked that, he really liked that, and he hummed happily against Connor’s cock.

Evan dug his fingers into the skin of Connor’s thigh, pulling back and then letting Connor’s length slide back into his mouth, and Connor groaned Evan’s name and fucking hell, Evan really really liked that. Connor’s hips moved restlessly, his hand gripping harder at Evan’s hair, and Evan changed the rhythm a little, going faster then, his tongue sliding over the underside of Connor’s length,  and Connor’s hips bucked again. The music from the dance floor was pounding hard in Evan’s ears and he was extremely hard, so turned on from the noises Connor was making, because damn, that was so hot.

Evan pulled off a little, looking up at Connor, and Connor whined. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Connor said and Evan gripped the base of Connor’s cock, stroking him and enjoying the way Connor groaned, his head thrown back against the door. Evan greedily took Connor back into his mouth, because he couldn’t help himself, he had to make Connor come he had to. “Oh my god, _Evan_.”

So this was working for Connor. Evan redoubled his efforts, taking more of Connor into his mouth, his hands digging into the skin of Connor’s ass, and Connor’s hips snapped forward and he moaned, “Fuck, I’m - Evan, I’m-” Connor came hard, moaning louder and Evan swallowed, extremely satisfied with himself.

Evan let Connor’s cock slip out of his mouth, sitting back on his heels and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and admiring how blissed out Connor looked, his face still flushed, his eyes half lidded and mouth open. “Fuck.”

“Yeah?”

Connor grinned and then he was pulling Evan to his feet, kissing him hard, and Evan really didn’t last long once Connor’s hands were on him, he’d been so worked up after watching Connor get off and Connor kissed his neck and his teeth scraped along Evan’s bottom lip and he normally lasted a lot longer, he usually made Connor work a little harder but he was coming before he could stop himself, Connor’s hand still stroking him even after his hips slowed, his thumb rubbing over the head of Evan’s spent cock, making him jerk and swear.

Connor kissed him again, less urgent but still hot and deep, before pulling away pulling up his jeans. He found Evan a paper towel to clean himself up with and Evan gingerly managed to erase the evidence and zip his jeans back up.

“You really do look hot like that,” Connor said, smirking, and Evan really wanted to just kiss him, to just drag him back to his place and tie Connor to his bed and not let him go until he had worshipped every inch of him but that was too much, that was weird, that was his idiotic squishy feelings talking so he just said thank you. And then high fived Connor.

They staggered their exit from the bar’s bathroom, Evan taking a couple of minutes to compose himself before meeting back up at the bar with Connor. They got drinks and found their way back to Mattie and Alex.

“Where have you two been?” Mattie asked, smiling lopsidedly. “You were gone forever!”

“Long line at the bar,” Evan said quickly.

“Drinks took forever,” Connor jumped in.

“Gotcha,” Alex said, smiling. “Evan, just so you know your lipstick is smudged.”

Evan flinched because of course he forgot to check.


	9. November (Nine Months Later)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sometimes I wish we’d been friends growing up.”

The weather turned crisp and cool and the leaves were starting to disappear from the trees and Santa Clauses were starting to pop up in store windows and it occurred to Evan that winter would be upon them before long.

He supposed he had been so focused on just getting through the next day, next week, next month if he was lucky that it was suddenly November and he had booked a plane ticket home ages ago, months and months ago, had already promised to work Christmas while everyone else took off he could please, please just go home for Thanksgiving.

And he hadn’t even thought to mention it to Connor because Connor managed a bookstore, he might be working, and Connor’s situation with his parents was weird so it wasn’t a given that he would be going home for the holiday, especially since he might do Christmas with them.

Connor showed up with lunch for Evan about a week before Thanksgiving and asked, over sandwiches from this deli they both liked, what Evan’s Thanksgiving plans were.

“I’m going home,” Evan said. “It’s uh… like we don’t do Christmas and Hanukkah isn’t really a big deal? So I try to go home for Thanksgiving most years so I can see my mom.”

“That’s really cool,” Connor said with a smile. “I’m going home too. Are you flying?”

Evan nodded. “Yeah, I have a seven o’clock flight on Wednesday night, and I come back Sunday. I wish I was staying for more time, but it’s all the time I could get away.”

Connor nodded. “I’ve got a seven o’clock flight Wednesday night too,” He said, looking thoughtful. “LaGuardia?”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “Southwest?”

“Yep!” Connor said with a smile. “Dude, pretty sure we’re on the same flight.”

Evan smiled, something inside him relaxing, untwisting for the first time in a long time. “I’m not a super great flyer…” Evan said apologetically.

“Okay.”

“So you don’t have to sit with me if you don’t want.”

Connor rolled his eyes at Evan. “One of these days you’re going to realize that when I say you’re my best friend, I fucking mean it. We’re super sitting together. I’m not letting you sit all alone on the way home.”

The thing inside him that had untwisted just totally unraveled and Evan smiled really hard at Connor. “Okay.”

“Think this it’ll be weird? Being home at the same time?” Connor asked.

“Not sure,” Evan said. “Probably a little.” He looked down a bit awkwardly at his sandwich. “Do you ever - nevermind.”

Connor looked confused. “No, come on,” He said. “Do I ever what?”

Evan shook his head a little, trying to shrug. “Just. Sometimes I wish we’d been friends growing up.”

Connor’s lips twisted slightly, into a small frown, and then he smiled a little sadly. “Yeah. Me too.”

 

* * *

 

Evan and Connor split a cab to the airport. “Is it weird that I kind of forget sometimes what you look like in regular clothes?” He said, eyeing up Evan’s hoodie and faded jeans.

“I just want to be comfortable,” He said with a shrug.

“Yeah, fair. I just forgot what you look like out of a suit.”

“Liar,” Evan said because he knew Connor knew what he looked like when his suit was on Connor’s floor.

“You know what I meant. Mind in the gutter.”

Evan smiled a little.

“Please thank your mom again for driving me home. Honestly last time I went back I just took an Uber because my parents had this whole fight about it.”

Evan nodded. “And Zoe’s home already?”

Connor rolled his eyes a little. “She and her high school friends do this whole big catch up at Thanksgiving every year? Like in college the entire jazz band was basically at our mom’s new place. Honestly I’m kinda shocked she’s not using that to get out of lunch with Larry and then dinner with mom.”

“It’s cool that she has friends from high school,” Evan said.

“Not planning a big reunion with Jared Kleinman then?” Connor said, smirking.

Evan pulled a face. “Ugh, I hope not. Last year our moms bumped into each other at the grocery store and Mrs. Kleinman kept being like _‘Oh, Evan, Jared’s home and he’s brought his new boyfriend!’_ It was terrible.”

“Ew he has a boyfriend?”

Evan smiled, though it was a little mean spirited. “Had. They broke up.”

“How do you know that?”

“Facebook. You really are missing out by refusing to use it.”

Connor’s face shifted into one of disgust. “I’m good, thanks.”

They made it to the airport early, but the security line was extremely long and Evan found himself nervously checking and rechecking the time. They were super going to miss their flight. They were flying on the busiest travel day of the year, why hadn’t they gotten here earlier, and then they wouldn’t be able to get a new flight and his mom would be so disappointed and she would have to spend Thanksgiving all alone and Evan hated the idea of her being alone -

“Dude,” Connor’s voice said, pulling him out of his head a bit.

The line had moved. Evan shook his head and started to walk to fill in the gap.

“So you’re not a good flyer,” Connor said, and he was wearing his Concerned About Evan face, which apparently Connor had now, a specific face for when Evan worried him and Evan wanted a drink or a smoke or to disappear into the floor.

“I’m not a good flyer,” Evan said, nodding. “Just. So many potential issues.”

“Okay,” Connor said. “Should I distract you?”

Evan doubted he could actually be distracted, but he nodded. “Okay yeah sure.”

Connor launched into telling Evan about this book he was reading. Admittedly, Connor was a great storyteller. He didn’t get caught up in irrelevant details and he was so animated and invested in the story that Evan did find himself being pulled out of his head a bit.

“Cliff hanger,” Connor said as they finally made it to the proper security line and needed to take off their shoes and belts and go through the scanners. Evan was directed to a second line, away from Connor, and he felt sort of irrationally stupidly annoyed by that, like “Excuse me sir that’s my emotional support fuck buddy,” but he followed the directions and put his things on the conveyor belt and went through the metal detector, always sort of worried he would set it off one way or another despite having already taken all of the metal stuff off of his person.

Having been passed through TSA, apparently deemed to be bombless, Evan found Connor on the other side of the line, tying his shoes. Evan grabbed a seat on the bench beside him and put on his own shoes.

“So, anyway,” Connor said. “How likely are you to actually read this book?”

“Not terribly likely,” Evan admitted.

“That’s fine, it’s honestly not that great. I’m gonna spoil the ending. So, then the first kid decides to deviate from their original plan to kill themselves because he doesn’t want the other one to die.”

“As you do,” Evan said.

“And the other one finds him and it’s a whole thing, and he has to go to the hospital because obviously. And the two teenagers don’t kill themselves because love or whatever.”

Evan wrinkled his nose. “That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“Nobody goes to therapy or has to take meds or, like, do any work? They’re just… better because they’re in love?”

“Apparently. I mean, yeah, it sort of felt like a cop out of an ending to me too.”

“It just… That’s not how being mentally ill works.”

Connor smiled at Evan brightly. “Look at you and your realistic expectations of how to manage a mental illness. I’m so proud.”

“Fuck off,” Evan said, but he felt his face heat up. He’d never expected that someday he would take that as a compliment.

They had some time before boarding, and Connor dragged Evan to the sad airport bar and said that he was allowed to have a drink, but only one, because he suspected Evan would want to take a Valium before they took off.

And Evan’s first thought was, “I love you,” but he didn’t say it because that was fucking weird and he needed to stop being so damn weird. Instead he said, “Fair enough” and then insisted on paying for the drinks with his fucking lawyer money.

“Dude,” Connor said.

“Dude,” Evan said back, rolling his eyes. “I just got the second half of my signing bonus so just. Let me buy you a fucking drink.”

Connor smiled. “You never mentioned you got a signing bonus.”

“Well, uh. I got a signing bonus. Whatever, it’s not important.”

“What are you going to do when you get to your mom’s place tonight?” Connor asked.

Evan smiled because he was honestly kind of excited. “I think my mom and I will just hang out a bit. Last year we tried to watch a movie and I fell asleep in the middle of it.”

“Aww, that sucks.”

“Don’t go to law school,” Evan said, rolling his eyes.

“What movie did you watch last year?”

Evan smiled a bit. “Okay don’t laugh.”

Connor smiled.

“My mom and I both sort of… love superhero movies? It was sort of our thing when I was growing up. We’d go see, like, _Batman and Robin_ at the budget theatre or rent the Tobey Maguire _Spider-Man_ movies.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Stop it, I refuse to be called adorable.” He smiled despite himself.

“Okay but your mom is still super cute.”

“Whatever. Anyway, we tried to watch the newest Thor movie because I had failed as a fan and hadn’t seen it and I… just fell asleep.” He shrugged. “We watched the whole thing later in the weekend but I think we’ve learned I’m not always able to remain conscious once I’m back home.”

“Your mom’s great,” Connor said. “Does she actually like superheroes? Or was she just being a trooper through your Spider-Man phase?”

“Oh yeah, my mom’s a big nerd.  She was, like, reading Marvel comics as a kid and everything,” Evan said, smiling, because his mom was actually a proper nerd about comics. She had a bunch of vintage comic books and had let Evan read through the _Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars_ series when she trusted him not to get anything sticky on the pages. “My grandpa tells this story about her going as Skrull for Halloween and everyone just… thinking she was an alien.”

“Your mom is so cute.”

“She is,” Evan said, shrugging.

He did take that Valium before they took off, because he knew himself well enough to know better than to try to tough it out. He didn’t need the plane landing for a medical emergency that was just his anxiety going haywire.

Evan slept through most of the flight. He woke up, surprised, as they began their descent, blinking a few times, and horrified to discover his head had been resting against Connor’s shoulder.

“Fuck I’m sorry,” Evan mumbled rubbing his face. “Valium tends to knock me out.”

“You looked like you could use the sleep,” Connor said with a shrug. He put his book down and smiled at Evan.

Evan smiled sheepishly. “It’s been kind of a hectic week.”

“You deserve a break,” Connor said, bumping his shoulder.

The plane landed, bumpy and jarring, and Evan couldn’t shake the feeling that this was it, that the majority of plane crashes happened during take off or landing, that he was definitely going to plummet out of the sky, but Evan didn’t die and that was something. They exited the plane, slowly, slowly, slowly and Evan caught himself yawning a bit as they headed out through the terminal. As they descended the escalator, Evan could see his mom waiting for them already near the baggage claim.

“Look, there’s your mom,” Connor said, smiling. “She came inside.”

Evan smiled. “She always does.”

“So cute, oh my god.”

Evan rolled his eyes. Once they stepped off of the escalator, Evan walked quickly toward his mom. She spotted him before he got there, her face morphing into this big bright smile because she was happy to see him and Evan never got used to it. “Sweetheart, hi!” She said and she pulled him into a tight hug. Evan still wasn’t totally used to being taller than her. In his mind she still towered over him. In reality he had quite a bit of height on her and had to stoop to hug her properly.

His mom pulled away, smiling and then said hello to Connor, pulling him into a hug as well. “So good to see you again,” She said and Evan knew it was genuine because his mom wasn’t the sort of person who dealt in any variety of bullshit.

“Nice to see you too,” Connor said. “Thanks again for offering to drive me back to my mom’s.”

“It’s no problem at all,” She said, smiling. “Have you two eaten? I’m not against being trashy and going through a drive through on our way back.”

Evan was actually pretty hungry and after they made their way back to his mom’s car, they drove to the nearest McDonalds and each got a large order of fries and split a 20-piece nugget.

“So the flight was okay?”

“Yeah, it was pretty smooth,” Connor said.

“I slept for most of it,” Evan confessed. “I took a Valium before we took off and… yeah. It usually makes me pretty tired.” He felt weird, just saying that in front of his mom. He had fought her for years, fought against taking meds or going to therapy, insisting he didn’t need help and that he was fine… And now he just. Said things like that in front of her.

But she seemed unbothered. “Good. I’m glad it wasn’t a bad flight.” She flashed Connor a smile. “I’m a nervous wreck on airplanes.”

“She is,” Evan said because it was true. “She makes me look like I just left a three-day meditation retreat.”

“I just can’t stop talking,” His mom went on, shrugging. “I’ll talk the ear off of whatever poor sucker sits next to me.”

Connor smiled. “Do people usually talk back?”

“Oh yes. I’m very charming, even at my most nervous.”

“She makes friends,” Evan explained.

“I do. I make friends on planes. And city buses and in elevators.”

Evan caught Connor’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Elevators, huh?” Connor said.

“I know it’s silly because modern elevators are really very safe,” His mom said, smiling. “But I do get a little nervous, especially in tall buildings.”

They finished their food and Evan’s mom merged back onto the highway. She played an oldies station and excitedly asked Connor if it was true that he was buying the bookstore.

“Yes,” Connor said. “I am. It’s still a ways away until I actually take over, but I’ve made a plan with the current owners about taking over and I moved into the apartment above the shop. And Evan’s been a godsend helping me with the paperwork, too.”

“Is that so?” Evan’s mom said, casting a look his way from the driver’s seat and Evan could practically read her thoughts, because his relationship with Sabrina had started in college after Evan proofread a paper for her, and he always did favors for people he liked.

“I just. I actually love contracts so it’s not exactly a hardship for me.”

“He tells me how much he loves contracts all of the time,” Connor said from the backseat. “Sometimes I feel like maybe I need to leave him and the contracts alone for a while.”

Evan’s mom laughed, saying, “Well if you plan to propose to a contract, Evan, please warn me first.”

“Why? So you can be there when I’m committed?” Evan joked and his mom laughed.

“I was thinking they’d have to commit me too,” Heidi said. “We can start a mother-son circuit in the psych ward.”

“What’s our talent?” Evan asked.

“Oh we’ll be a band,” His mom went on and Evan felt his face flush because he knew precisely what story was about to follow. “Connor, has Evan told you about the Hansen family band?”

“Mom, come on.”

“Oh I definitely want to hear this,” Connor said with a laugh from the back.

“Honey, you were what, four?”

“Worse. I was six.”

“That’s right,” His mom said, smiling. “His babysitter at the time loved to watch old 70s television shows on TV Land when she had kids over after school. Think Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family. So Evan, who is six, comes home one day and tells his dad and I that we need to have more kids if we’re going to start The Hansen Family band.”

“The irony being that I had no idea that Hanson was already a thing,” Evan said. “Despite thinking ‘MMMBop’ was the best song ever.”

“Oh god not that song,” Connor commented.

“Oh yeah. That and Barney songs sort of ruined my taste in music for a while,” Evan’s mom said.

“So you wanted brothers and sisters?” Connor said to Evan, laughing.

“Yes,” Evan said. “But only so we could start a band.”

“If I remember it right, you thought we needed two girls and a boy.”

“And a dog,” Evan chimed in. “The dog was very important.”

“His name was Lucky,” Evan’s mom said. “Even though he didn’t exist.”

“Did you guys have any songs?”

“Oh god no,” Evan said, laughing. “I think my siblings were in charge of actually writing the songs. I was just there to be a diva about it.”

“And also to tunelessly bang on that glockenspiel your Grandma Norah got for you.”

“Yeah,” Evan said with a laugh. “Thanks for not kicking me out for that one.”

“We did consider selling you on the black market,” His mom quipped. “But, I dunno, I guess I liked you or something. Or maybe nobody wanted to purchase a diva of a kindergartener.”

Evan laughed.

Not long after, they pulled up at the address Connor had given them as his mom’s. Evan was a little bit surprised about how big and well kept it was. To his knowledge, only Cynthia lived there, but it was easily bigger than the house Evan grew up in. Evan hopped out of the car to grab Connor’s suitcase while Connor thanked Evan’s mom for the ride and for dinner with a hug. He clapped Evan on the shoulder before he headed inside, saying he’d see him later.

Evan climbed back into the car and his mom whistled. “This house…” She said.

“I know.”

“Must be nice,” She said, shrugging, and then she backed carefully out of the driveway.

“Thanks again for driving Connor,” Evan said.

“Of course honey. Always happy to help out your friends.” She smiled a bit. “He is very nice.”

“Mom don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything,” His mom said innocently. “I think he’s nice. I’m glad you have such a good friend, honey.”

 

* * *

 

Connor can hear laughter coming from the living room when he lets himself into his mom’s house, and heads toward the sound of the noise to find his mom and Zoe, curled up on the couch drinking wine and eating what looks like a very rich chocolate cake. His mom’s eyes light up when she sees him and she climbs off the sofa, a little wobbly on her feet, and pulls him into a warm, tight hug.

 

“It’s so good to have both my babies home,” says Cynthia, and she sounds super happy and super drunk. “Connor, come have some wine with us. And some chocolate cake.”

 

“Mom made me save you a piece,” Zoe says from the sofa, but she’s smiling, and Connor sees they’ve left a wine glass and a plate out for him on the coffee table, which makes something inside him twinge happily.

 

“Looks like you guys are having fun,” Connor says, smiling at both of them. He takes a seat on the floor next to the coffee table and pours himself some wine, and his mom sits on the couch behind him and reaches out to squeeze his shoulder.

 

It’s… a little weird, having so much outright physical affection from his mom. But it’s nice.

 

They’ve been talking a lot more often this year, ever since Connor called her in July to let her know that he was planning to buy the bookstore. It’s like the bookstore had opened some kind of gate between them, bridged some kind of divide. All of a sudden they’re talking at least weekly, even if it’s just a short call, and there’s, weirdly, a lot to talk about.

 

Namely, books.

 

“Before I forget,” Connor says, and pulls out a brown paper bag from his satchel and hands it to his mom. “This is the book I was telling you about.”

 

Cynthia’s eyes light up again and she just looks so fucking happy. She reaches into her own bag at the bottom of the sofa and hands him a slightly nicer looking bag, and they both open their respective bags to pull out their books.

 

“You guys are nerds,” says Zoe, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe you have, like, a book club now.”

 

“I manage a bookstore,” Connor points out. “Is it really surprising that I like books?” He looks at the book his mom has given him, _The Luminaries by_  Eleanor Catton. “Oh hey, I’ve heard of this one. I actually meant to read it when it came out, but I didn’t get around to it.”

 

“I really enjoyed it,” says Connor’s mom with a nod, climbing off the sofa to pour herself more wine. “Some really interesting structural elements, and it was nice to read about a part of the world I knew nothing about. The author was only twenty-eight when she published it, apparently.”

 

“You’ve got time,” says Zoe, a little dryly. Connor snorts.

 

“Weren’t you writing a novel, sweetheart?” Cynthia asks.

 

“Kind of,” Connor admits. “I kind of… I don’t know, I’ve been busy with the store and everything and I reread what I’d written recently and I kind of… I don’t really know if I know what I’m trying to say, if that makes any sense.”

 

Zoe looks confused, but Connor’s mom is nodding like it all makes sense. “I tried to write a novel once,” she says conversationally. “Mostly because I felt like… well, I loved books so much, I loved getting lost in fictional worlds, so surely I could create one.” She shrugs. “I’m not saying never, but… oh, I’ve never enjoyed writing nearly as much as I enjoy just devouring someone else’s story.”

 

Connor nods in agreement. “Yeah,” he says, because that resonates with him. “I don’t know. Maybe one day I’ll pick it up, but it’s not exactly a priority right now.”

 

Zoe looks over at the book Cynthia’s holding and kind of tilts her head. “Mom, is that in French?”

 

“It is,” Connor confirms with a grin. “Mom and I were talking about it. I read it in English but she thinks her French still holds up to reading it in its native language.”

 

“What’s it about?” Zoe asks, looking only mildly interested.

 

“It’s basically a crime thriller,” Connor explains with a grin. “Not my usual thing but I really enjoyed it. Full of really interesting and weird characters. Oh, and everyone’s terrified that someone’s managed to recreate the plague, so that’s fun.” With that, he picks up a plate and takes a piece of cake.

 

“It’s called Have Mercy On Us All in English,” Cynthia adds, “but the French title is _Pars vite et reviens tard,_  which is… leave early and come back late? So obviously not a direct translation.”

 

“I’ll mail you the version in English if you get stuck,” Connor says with a smirk, and Cynthia whacks him on the shoulder with the book lightly, which sends Zoe into a fit of giggles.

 

“So your flight was good, honey?” Connor’s mom asks after a moment.

 

“Yeah,” Connor says with a nod. “Pretty smooth. Evan doesn’t fly well, so he took a Valium and slept through the whole flight, which was probably just as well.”

 

“Nice you got on the same flight,” says Zoe, her tone a little pointed.

 

“Evan’s lovely,” Cynthia says, her voice warm. “Such a lovely young man. I think you two are good together.”

 

“They’re not together,” Zoe says before Connor can say anything. “At least, that’s what they keep saying.”

 

“He’s my best friend,” Connor says, a little defensively. “Just because we’re close doesn’t mean we’re in a relationship.”

 

Cynthia nods sagely and looks at Zoe. “I believe they’re what you call fuck buddies.”

 

“Mom!” Connor yells, and he knows he’s gone bright red. Zoe bursts out laughing and Connor takes the opportunity to drink his entire glass of wine and pour himself a refill.

 

“I was young once,” says Cynthia with a grin.

 

“Why don’t you tell Zoe about your friend Marjorie, Mom?” says Connor, looking his sister dead in the eye, and sure enough, his mother launches into a story about her best friend in college and her talented tongue and Connor downs three glasses of wine as Zoe gets progressively redder.

 

By the time midnight rolls around, they’re all definitely drunk, in a pointless argument about whether or not Benedict Cumberbatch is attractive, and they’ve gone through two bottles of wine.

 

It’s completely different from any other visit home Connor’s ever had. Completely.

 

He’s loving every second of it.

 

Connor’s mom finally climbs to her feet and announces they all should get to bed. “Your father no doubt has some ridiculously overpriced restaurant lined up for tomorrow,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “But save room for me, alright? I’ve bought pies. And more alcohol.”

 

“That sounds awesome,” Connor says sincerely. “Lunch with Dad is gonna suck.”

 

Cynthia looks conflicted. “On one hand, I should be mature and remind you that your father loves you,” she says as they head upstairs to the bedrooms, Connor carrying his suitcase. “On the other hand… you’re not wrong, it is probably going to suck.”

 

Both Zoe and Connor get enthusiastic kisses from their tipsy mother before she heads off into her room, and Connor’s about to head into the guest room he usually stays in when Zoe grabs his arm.

 

“You and Mom and your book club,” Zoe says, her eyes warm. “It’s so great? I just… I really, really love that you and Mom have that thing together, something that yours.”

 

“Me too,” Connor admits.

 

“It’s just…” Zoe looks like she’s tearing up a little, which is a sure sign she’s drunk, because Zoe Murphy is a badass. “Mom’s really missed you.”

 

Connor doesn’t know what to say to that, but he knows what Zoe means.

 

He’s missed her, too.

 

* * *

 

Evan woke up early on Thanksgiving in his childhood bedroom, feeling a little bit disoriented. This was the longest amount of time since he left for college that Evan had been away. His room still looked the same as it had - some childhood photos, a few prints of trees, a map of Ellison State Park. The bed still had the same red plaid covers, same old video game controller in the shelves of his headboard collecting dust.

Evan got out of bed and headed down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. Maybe a few minutes later, his mom walked into the kitchen too. She was in sweats and her hair was in a ponytail, and she had glasses on.

“Those are new,” Evan said, smiling a little.

“Well when you’re squinting to read all of the time, you’ll get them too,” His mom said, reaching around him to get a coffee mug. “When was the last time you had your eyes checked, anyway?”

Evan sighed. “I’m twenty-seven mom.”

“So, what, high school?” She said teasing and Evan rolled his eyes.

“It was during my last year of law school,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. “And my eyesight is perfect so whatever.”

His mom laughed. “How do you feel about waffles?” She asked. “Greta’s hosting dinner this year so who knows if anything will be edible.”

“I’m into waffles,” Evan said, smiling. “Is it fair to make fun of Aunt Greta’s cooking when we’ve gotten away with bringing a store-bought pie for like two decades?”

His mom grinned at him. “Look I’m riding the single parent train as far as it will take me when it comes to Thanksgiving. I’m not about to go buy a whole dead bird and try to make it food.”

Evan laughed.

“Speaking of single parenting,” His mom said, her tone deceptively light as she pulled down a bowl for the waffle mix.

“No.”

“We have this fight every year,” His mom said, sighing.

“So you should realize I never want to do it.”

“And you should realize that I always win,” His mom said, still smiling, “Just call him. Get it over with before the parade starts.”

“It’s like six thirty in the morning in Colorado,” Evan said, frowning. “I might wake Amelia.”

“Fine,” His mom said. “Just. Do it before I have to hear about it, okay? It gets pretty tiring when he comes crying to me because you don’t want to have a relationship.”

“I don’t want to a have a relationship,” Evan said caustically. “It would be easier if he just stayed away after he-”

“Evan. Sweetheart. I know. You don’t have to explain to me why you don’t want to talk to him. But it’s Thanksgiving. Throw him your annual bone and he’ll leave you alone until Yom Kippur.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “This year his big apology was for missing my graduation.”

“Well good. He should have been there,” His mom said with a sniff. “When you had chicken pox I had to leave you with a babysitter, but when Amelia has them he had to drop everything.”

“It didn’t matter to me.”

“I just think -”

“Mom,” Evan said, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly. “I only cared if you were there, okay? It didn’t really matter that he flaked. He always flakes. It’s basically a pastry crust that way. But I’ll give him a call later so he gets off your back, okay?.”

“Thank you,” She said squeezing his hand back. “Okay. Waffles?”

“Please.”

Evan’s mom made waffles and Evan scrambled some eggs (and sent a picture to Connor saying, _“That will be $6 please.”_ ), and they ate their food while the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade started.

Evan and his mom enjoyed their breakfast, talking and laughing and making fun of the commentary on the parade. They watched with rapt attention during the Broadway number and giggled and muted the television as Santa Claus appeared.

“Do you remember when I was in like second grade and I got in trouble for telling everyone in class that Santa was just their parents?” Evan said.

“Aww yes,” She said, smiling. “I was so proud of you, being a little troublemaker, even though your dad and I had to pretend to be so stern about it. Your teacher sent home a note about how you weren’t being, uh, _respectful_ about other traditions.”

“Mrs. G. was _so_ mean,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. “No wonder…” He laughed suddenly.

“What?”

“Remember how there was that kid who pushed a printer off a desk that year?”

“Oh yes. That little shithead Jared was telling everyone he threw it at the teacher.”

“That was Connor.”

His mom started laughing. “Well. I suppose I’m glad he’s grown out of having temper tantrums? Or at least I hope he has.”

Evan laughed. “He has.”

Evan left his mom in front of the dog show to go and take a shower and get dressed. He put on a sweater and khakis, dressed down a bit from his usual work uniform because he knew he would feel way overdressed in his aunt’s dining room in a suit and tie.

His mom took some time to get ready and Evan watched the rest of the dog show. He sent a picture of Connor of the dogs he liked, and Connor replied, _“Ugh I always wanted a dog growing up.”_

_“Me too.”_

_“But what about Lucky? What would he say if he heard that?”_

_“I think Lucky has accepted that he was imaginary.”_

_“What’s the plan for The Hansen Family Band today?”_

Evan laughed, a little embarrassed that Connor had heard that story. _“Dinner at my aunt’s. My Grandma Norah will probably harass me about my synagogue attendance, now that I’ve gotten an ‘acceptable’ job.”_

_“Want to trade? Zoe and I are heading off to lunch with Larry right now.”_

_“Oh fuck.”_

_“I know.”_ There was a pause while Connor typed more. _“I purposely wore beat up sneakers because I’d rather just give him something to complain about.”_

Evan sighed. Connor’s father was really a fucking nightmare. Evan hated that guy. Larry Murphy was just such an asshole. _“I’m sorry Connor that sounds awful.”_

_“But hey, at least nobody’s bugging me about whether I’m going to synagogue, right?”_

Evan smiled. Connor didn’t text much after that. He was probably busy with his dad.

Which reminded Evan…

He sighed and scrolled through his contacts for his father’s number. He sucked in a deep breath and called.

The phone rang three times before a tiny little voice shouted “HELLO?!”

Amelia. Cool. He was talking to a first grader. “Hey Amelia,” Evan said as patiently as he could. “Can I please talk to your dad?”

Your dad.

Telling word choice.

Evan heard her voice in the background, probably seeking instructions for what to do next. “MAY I PLEASE ASK WHO’S CALLING?”

“It’s Evan,” He said wearily.

“Mom, the man says he’s Evan?”

There was some noise on the other line, probably indicating the phone was being handed off and Evan ran a hand over his face because this was fucking typical.

His father’s voice appeared on the other side of the line, saying, “Yello?”

“Hey dad,” Evan said, and he could tell his dad wasn’t really paying attention because he could hear him saying “Not now, Amy, daddy’s on the phone.”

Evan thought about hanging up. It would be easier if he just hung up.

But he didn’t.

“Evan! Buddy, how’s it going?”

He flinched at “buddy.” He never quite understood why his dad thought that was an appropriate pet name considering it suggested a familiarity that they didn’t have. “I’m good,” Evan said. “I’m home for Thanksgiving so. Figured I’d say hey.”

“That’s great! How’s Heidi these days, still kicking ass as a paralegal?”

“Yep,” Evan said, his tone clipped.

“And what about you, how’s the Big Apple?”

Evan hated that his dad called New York that. Or maybe he just hated his dad. Sometimes he was predictable that way. Marcia was going to have a field day with this when he got back to the city. “Fine. Good.”

“And your mom said you have a new job?”

“Since June,” Evan said pointedly. They had discussed it on Yom Kippur. Apparently, his dad still hadn’t learned to write things down.

“Wow, bud, I’m super proud of you -”

“Thanks,” Evan said, cutting him off before he managed to make Evan’s law career about himself.

“You know, I was pretty surprised when you said want to be a lawyer. You were always so nervous whenever you came to visit! I thought there was no way!”

And there it was. “Yeah. I remember,” Evan said. His dad said he’d never make it because he was too nervous to talk in front of “his family” so how could he talk in front of a courtroom full of people. Evan had replied, coolly, that his dad wasn’t his family so maybe that’s why he was always so nervous and excused himself from dinner and hadn’t visited since.

Also he had kind of overcome the public speaking thing because he was on the debate team for most of college, but again, Evan doubted his dad remembered that Evan had told him that.

“I’m just so proud of you! You’re doing it, bud, you’re really making something of yourself -”

“Yeah, thanks,” Evan said shortly. “How’s everything with you?”

“Oh yeah, we’re heading to Tracy’s mom’s for dinner in a couple of hours. Amy drew some hand turkeys at school and she’s super excited to hang them up at grandma’s, I’ll send you a picture.”

“Great.” Evan didn’t want a picture of his half-sister’s turkey drawing but he thought it might be rude to protest. He didn’t want to be mean to a six-year-old. It wasn’t Amelia’s fault that they shared a shitty dad. It wasn’t her fault that every time Evan spoke to her or saw a picture of her he sort of wanted to punch his father in the face. She hadn’t asked to exist, to be a replacement kid, part of a real family while Evan was stuck being this weird leftover. He shouldn’t be angry with her. She was just a little kid. Last time Evan had seen her, she didn’t even know who he was because she was four. None of this was her fault.

“Did we tell you we’re trying for another little one?” His dad went on. “We’re hoping for a boy. Wanna do it before Amy’s too old, you know? She’ll be seven this summer. Don’t want them to have too big of a gap.”

Evan almost laughed. “Oh. Good for you.” He did laugh then, and it was bitter and awkward. “Wouldn’t want to have kids too far apart in age. I mean, over _twenty_ years apart is fine, and but _seven_? Can’t have that, can we?”

“Shit, Evan, come on. That’s not what I meant.”

“No, I know,” Evan said, and he was being so fucking snarky. “It’s got to be hard, remembering that _other kid_ you had before Amy. Have you tried putting a reminder in your phone maybe?”

“Evan -”

“I gotta go. Have a good Thanksgiving.” He hung up before his dad could say anything else thoughtless and hurtful.

It pissed him off that his dad somehow could still find ways to hurt him. He wanted to be past that, to be beyond, to be unbothered by his dad’s new life and new family and tendency to only call when he started to feel a little too guilty. But Evan couldn’t help feeling it, couldn’t push away the sadness and pain of being seven years old and watching his dad drive off in a Uhaul and not come back, and it sucked. He hated it.

He texted Connor, because texting Connor usually helped. _“Just got off the phone with my asshole dad. Not to brag or anything, but he might squeeze out ahead of Larry this once. We’ll have to compare notes later.”_

Before long, Evan was heading off to his aunt’s with his mom, responsible for holding the pumpkin pie on his lap. Being home always made him feel a bit childish, because it usually meant his mother had to drive him everywhere but… it wasn’t exactly like he could do much about it. He doubted he could even call a Lyft out here.

Evan didn’t drive. Being an environmental lawyer made for a helpful excuse but he never managed to keep his anxiety in check long enough to get his license and then he moved to a city where driving was not a necessity so he didn’t need to worry about it.

But being home, getting driven around by his mother… something about it always sat a bit funny. Like he had managed to fuck up one of the simplest markers of adulthood. Teenagers drove, but Evan didn’t and… Sometimes it bothered him. He tried not to let it but sometimes it did.

Thanksgiving passed much the same way it always did. Evan was stuck in that awkward space where he was an adult, but not as old as his aunts and uncles, and his first cousins were all significantly younger than he was (the eldest, Sarah, was seventeen and was in trouble with Evan’s Aunt Greta because she had been out all night drinking and got super caught). So he just sort of loitered, uncomfortable and a bit quiet, between his grandmother and his surly fifteen-year-old cousin Seth who was texting someone named “Miguel” and not talking to anyone.

“So, Evan, you’ve stopped going to temple too have you?” His Grandma Norah asked him as Evan stood up help set the table for dinner.

“No?” Evan said. “I go sometimes.”

“Who with?” She said, disbelieving, “We all know you won’t go by yourself.”

Evan’s hands balled into fists. He hadn’t expected her to go quite so hard this year. Last time she was this upset was when he’d told her Sabrina wasn’t Jewish or interested in converting. “I go with my neighbor sometimes, okay?”

That seemed to shut Grandma Norah up at least.

Dinner went by quickly. Evan’s mom had been right about the food; it wasn’t terribly edible. Evan mostly moved his cold turkey and lumpy mashed potatoes around his plate and had a bigger piece of pie after “dinner” was cleared away.

Later in the evening, Evan and his mother returned to her house and she made them some microwave popcorn and they watched _Ant-Man_ together and agreed that Paul Rudd was clearly somehow immortal because he hadn’t aged since the 1990s. When the movie finished, they ended up going right into _Ant-Man and the Wasp._ It was a nice evening, just Evan and his mom spending time together and laughing, and none of the dread or darkness that Evan used to associate with this house managed to creep in and ruin it.

 

* * *

 

When Connor gets down to the kitchen the morning of Thanksgiving, his mom is honest to fuck putting store-bought waffles in the toaster, despite refusing to buy them his entire childhood. He can smell coffee and she’s got her phone connected to a Bluetooth speaker and is listening to Joy Division, which is honestly a pretty solid choice. She doesn’t notice him until he takes a mug from the cupboard and helps himself to some coffee, then smiles and kisses him on the cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving,” she says cheerfully.

 

“Eggos, Mom?” Connor says teasingly. “Isn’t that a little low-brow for you?”

 

“Oh sweetheart,” she says with a laugh, “in my old age I’m finally starting to be honest with myself. And the truth is, I’m a terrible cook.”

 

Connor puts some cream in his coffee and sits down at the kitchen island. “So what are your plans while we’re at lunch with Larry?”

 

“Wine and trashy novels,” Cynthia says with a smile. “I’m going to read some terribly written, formulaic, frighteningly heterosexual romance novels about women who don’t know how beautiful they are and men who own beachside property and won’t take no for an answer.”

 

“Gross.”

 

Connor’s mom grins, and honestly Connor can’t remember her smiling this much when he was a kid, he really can’t.

 

He wonders how much of that was his fault.

 

“Oh, they’re absolute trash,” Cynthia says, her voice fond, “but I loved them as a teenager, and they kind of feel familiar, if that makes sense? I can see how terrible they are, but I can still enjoy them in a nostalgic way.”

 

“Totally,” says Connor, because he gets it, even if romance novels are nowhere near his area. “I think sometimes people can get kind of wrapped up in making sure all the media they consume is unproblematic or whatever, but it’s less about avoiding things and more about thinking critically, I guess?”

 

“Absolutely,” says his mom, nodding emphatically. “Anyway, I’ll probably do the whole wine and romance novels in the bath thing because I am a cliche, and then when you kids are back we’ll have pie and… more wine, probably.” She laughs, and sounds a little self-conscious. “You probably think I’m an alcoholic, yikes.”

 

Connor’s mind flashes back to June and how terrifyingly sick Evan had been, how gray and pale he’d looked with an IV in his arm, how scared Connor had been. “As long as you’re not drinking alone too much,” he says, and his voice comes out firmer than he means to. “Drinking alone can be… not great.”

 

Cynthia frowns a little, and she looks like she wants to ask a question but she doesn’t.

 

She’d stopped asking questions like that when he left home.

 

“I don’t do it often,” she promises, “and only a glass or two. But I like being able to have some wine with my grown-up kids.” She offers him a small smile. “I like to think that even though you’re my kids, we can interact as adults now. You’ve both grown up a lot.”

 

“Yeah,” Connor says quietly. He looks at his mom, looks her right in the eye. “I’m sorry it took me longer.”

 

His mom’s face softens. “You always did things in your own time, Connor. And I… I didn’t always realize that, and I…” She blinks a few times. “I failed you a lot as a teenager, sweetheart. You were struggling and I didn’t know what to do, and I spent too much time arguing with your father about it instead of focusing on what you needed, and… well, no wonder you didn’t want anything to do with me once you left home. I don’t blame you, I…”

 

“Hey,” says Connor, standing up and moving closer to his mom, who’s tearing up. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t great, either. I was kind of an asshole. I’m really trying to be less of an asshole these days. I know you tried, Mom. I know you… I know it wasn’t that you didn’t care.” He puts a cautious hand on his mother’s shoulder.

 

“You’re not an asshole,” says his mom, sniffing a little bit. “You were struggling, you needed help and it was almost too late, we could have lost you and it shouldn’t have taken something that awful for us to get you the help you needed, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. If your sister hadn’t found you, if you’d…”

 

Connor pulls his mom into a hug and she lets out a shaky breath and very quietly sobs against his shoulder for a moment, and his heart is beating fast and his stomach is twisting violently and he hates this, hates seeing his mom like this, hates knowing it’s his fault, and holds her a little closer.

 

“I’m okay,” he promises her. “I’m okay, it’s all okay. It wasn’t… it wasn’t great, but you can’t… you shouldn’t beat yourself up over it, because I got there. We got there.” He lets her cry a little longer, then pulls away and looks her in the eye. “Seeing someone you care about struggling isn’t easy,” he says frankly. “It really fucking sucks, actually. I know that now. I know how that feels, that whole… wishing you could just magically take it away, wishing you could just fix it, you know? But it wasn’t something you could just fix. It took work, and _I_ had to do the work, and I’m glad I did because I’m… I’m really happy, Mom.”

 

“I can see that you are,” Cynthia says, wiping her eyes and smiling. “And I’m glad that you’ve let me see that. Let me be a part of this amazing thing you’re doing with the bookstore, even if it’s just little things like letting me help with the apartment.”

 

“I’m glad, too,” Connor says honestly. There’s a lump in his throat. “I’m glad  _you_ … I’m glad to have your support.”

 

Cynthia’s face darkens a little. “Your father has very… traditional ideas,” she says, her tone a little cautious. “About what success means.” She blinks a few times, then looks at Connor, her expression serious. “Whatever he says today, just know that I believe in you, alright?”

 

“It’s not going to be fun,” Connor says honestly. “No matter what I do, I’m not going to make him happy.”

 

“Your father,” Cynthia says, still with that cautious tone, “he’s… not a happy man. He has a lot of bitterness in him, and he closes himself off and… he’s a different man to the man I married, he was a lot more open back then. I think… when we were newlyweds, he worked hard because he wanted us to have everything we needed, everything we wanted, and when you kids were born he worked even harder, but somewhere along the way, I think his reason for working so hard changed. It became about the work, about being the best, and I never wanted to be that nagging wife who berates her husband about working long hours, but before I knew it, I was. And then when we started to realize that you needed help… he didn’t know what to do, because every other problem we’d ever had, he could fix by working harder. So he worked harder. And that wasn’t what you needed.”

 

Connor, who doesn’t spend a lot of time thinking about his father’s motivations, frowns a little. “You guys got divorced because of me.”

 

“We got divorced because we were making each other unhappy,” Cynthia says firmly. “Not because of you.” She sighs, then rubs her face. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, this is awfully intense for first thing in the morning. You haven’t even finished your coffee.”

 

“It’s okay,” Connor says quietly. “We, uh, we haven’t ever really talked about this, so…”

 

“We can talk again,” says his mom, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “This weekend. We’ll take some time to talk, if that’s what you want.”

 

“That sounds good,” says Connor, and he offers his mom a smile, and she returns it.

 

“Is there coffee?” says Zoe’s voice as she comes down the stairs, sounding a little worse for wear. “Oh, thank god.”

 

“I’ll pour you a cup,” Connor says, and gets a mug down for his sister.

 

If Zoe notices their mom has been crying, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she takes the offered cup of coffee from Connor and looks at him. “Okay, so, here’s the deal,” she says matter-of-factly. “I’ll drive us to and from the restaurant and you can get as drunk as you like at lunch.”

 

“Oh thank god,” says Connor in a rush. “I’m gonna need it.” He stops and thinks. “Wait, what’s the catch?”

 

Zoe smirks. “The catch is that you have to pick me up from the jazz band reunion party on Friday night,” she says. “Which might be early Saturday morning.”

 

“Done,” says Connor instantly, because honestly, that sounds like a pretty sweet deal. He finishes his coffee and checks his phone, where he sees he’s got messages from Evan. There’s a photo of scrambled eggs, and he cracks up laughing at the caption.

 

**That will be $6 please**

 

Zoe looks over his shoulder to figure out what he’s laughing about, then sees the picture and the caption and joins in with the laughter. Cynthia raises her eyebrows. “Okay, you have to let me in on the joke,” she says with a smile.

 

“Evan has a vendetta against scrambled eggs,” Zoe says.

 

“Not scrambled eggs themselves,” Connor clarifies. “Just buying scrambled eggs in restaurants. He says it’s fiscally irresponsible.”

 

Cynthia blinks. “I suppose I’d never thought of it that way, but he might have a point.” She smiles. “What’s he up to today?”

 

“Family stuff, I think,” Connor replies. “I know he and his mom like watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade together, and I think he’s having dinner with the extended family.” He takes a sip of his coffee and continues. “Evan’s Jewish, so obviously Christmas isn’t a thing, so Thanksgiving is more of a big deal for him because it’s a chance to see his family.”

 

“That’s very nice,” says Cynthia with a smile. “I ran into Heidi a few weeks back, actually. It took us a moment to recognize each other and we didn’t have a lot of time to talk, but we’d crossed paths when you kids were small. She agrees with me that it’s nice you and Evan are such good friends now.”

 

“Friends,” says Zoe with a roll of her eyes. “Right.”

 

When Connor’s finished showering, he gets dressed for lunch and puts on a nice shirt and a blazer and non-ripped jeans. He’s about to put on his dress shoes when he decides that he’ll give his dad something easy to pick a fight over and instead puts on a pair of beat-up sneakers.

 

Honestly, it’s easier than making him work for it. Larry will find something to complain about either way.

 

Zoe raises an eyebrow when she sees his shoes, but doesn’t say anything. They get into the car and Connor checks his phone to see that Evan’s sent him a bunch of dog photos.

 

He replies immediately.

 

**Ugh I always wanted a dog growing up.**

 

Evan responds quickly.

**Me too.**

Connor grins.

 

**But what about Lucky? What would he say if he heard that?**

 

**I think Lucky has accepted that he was imaginary.**

 

Zoe pulls onto the main road and Connor tries not to focus on what’s coming next. Instead, he just keeps texting Evan.

 

**What’s the plan for The Hansen Family Band today?**

 

**Dinner at my aunt’s. My Grandma Norah will probably harass me about my synagogue attendance, now that I’ve gotten an ‘acceptable’ job.**

 

**Want to trade? Zoe and I are heading off to lunch with Larry right now.**

 

**Oh fuck.**

 

Connor smiles. He knows Evan knows exactly how much he’s dreading this, and that in and of himself makes him feel a little better.

 

**I know.**

**I purposely wore beat up sneakers because I’d rather just give him something to complain about.**

 

**I’m sorry Connor that sounds awful.**

 

They arrive at the restaurant way too quickly for Connor’s liking. He shots off one final text to Evan.

 

**But hey, at least nobody’s bugging me about whether I’m going to synagogue, right?**

 

The restaurant is way too fancy and the maitre’d looks at Connor’s shoes disapprovingly but directs them to the table where Larry is already there, looking at the menu and drinking what looks like scotch. He stands up when he sees them, hugs Zoe and shakes Connor’s hand, then sighs when he looks him up and down.

 

“Honestly, Connor, you couldn’t have worn actual shoes?”

 

“I thought we might all want to go for a jog after dinner,” Connor says, faux-innocently. “Just wanted to be prepared.”

 

Beside him, Zoe chokes back a laugh.

 

The waiter comes over and asks for drink orders and Connor asks for whisky, straight off the bat, because it’s going to be that kind of meal. Larry orders wine for the table as well and Connor looks through the menu to see that they have this honestly ridiculous looking Thanksgiving-themed special that includes such wonders like ‘beans with a shiitake mushroom reduction and creme fraiche’, ‘twice-roasted candied sweet potatoes with a beetroot jus’ and ‘bourbon-braised turkey on a bed of potato puree with fresh cranberries’.

 

“I thought we’d have the Thanksgiving special,” says Larry conversationally. “It looks festive.”

 

It looks weird, thinks Connor, but just nods in agreement.

 

For an entree, Connor ends up with some kind of prawn cocktail, which makes no sense with turkey, but he’ll eat it anyway. Zoe asks Larry questions about recent cases and Connor drinks his way through two glasses of whiskey and half the bottle of Chardonnay so he doesn’t have to contribute while they eat their entrees.

 

Honestly, it’s going about as well as he could have hoped for.

 

As the main meals are served, Larry focuses his attention on Connor, who is looking at the ‘sweetcorn smear’ with trepidation and doesn’t really want to be eating whatever the fuck it is on his plate. “So, are you any further with your plans to buy the bookstore?” Larry asks, almost innocently.

 

“Actually, yeah,” Connor says, looking his dad square in the eye. “We’re ahead of schedule. I have a good lawyer.”

 

Larry actually laughs at that, and pours himself a glass of wine.

 

Connor wants to punch him.

 

“In the New Year, I’ll be doing some work in a local school,” Zoe begins, obviously trying to change the subject, but Larry interrupts her before she can continue.

 

“And you’re living in the apartment above the store?” Larry asks, rolling his eyes a little. “Fantastic. Next thing you know you’ll be working in your pajamas and terrifying all your customers.”

 

“Have you ever worked a customer service job in your life, Larry?” Connor asks pointedly.

 

Larry snorts. “Can’t be that difficult. I guess I should be glad you’re selling books and not cheeseburgers. Wonderful use of your Columbia education.”

 

“Selling books and cheeseburgers is at least more honest work than ripping off a childcare center,” Connor points out, because he’s not letting that go any time soon.

 

“You’re smarter than this,” Larry says, a little snidely. “You could be doing something much more meaningful than your allegedly bright future in sales. Your sister has a PhD, for god’s sake, and you were supposed to be the smart one.”

 

Zoe stiffens next to him and Connor stares at his dad in disbelief, because…

 

Well, he’s used to his dad being an asshole to him, but Zoe doesn’t deserve that kind of backhanded compliment.

 

“Then again, I suppose I should be grateful you have a job at all, Connor,” Larry continues, almost casually, as he slices into his turkey. “All things considered.”

 

“All things considered?” Connor snaps. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“You were well on the way to becoming a junkie in high school,” Larry says, and he’s using this completely fucked up matter-of-fact tone like everything he’s saying is some kind of lawyer fact. “All the drugs probably fried the part of your brain that’s in charge of making good decisions.”

 

“Are you fucking serious?” Connor blurts out, because this is harsh, even for Larry.

 

Larry gives him a withering look. “Connor. Please. Don’t make a scene.”

 

Connor downs his glass of wine and pours another one. When the waiter comes over, he orders another glass of whisky, and his dad rolls his eyes, like he’s embarrassed by Connor’s probably a little excessive drinking.

 

No, not _like._

 

Connor _knows_ his dad finds him embarrassing. Disappointing.

 

A plethora of other negative -ings.

 

Connor barely touches his meal because honestly, it’s all super weird and kind of disgusting, and when Larry tries to get them to look at the dessert menu, he snaps.

 

“Pretty sure the deal was we have dessert with Mom,” he says frankly.

 

Larry gives Zoe an indulgent smile, like he hasn’t been a total monster this entire meal. “What your mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

 

“Words to live by,” says Connor dryly. “A hallmark of a successful marriage. Oh, wait - she left you. Guess that didn’t work out.”

 

“Connor,” Zoe says warningly.

 

“Well, I’m not having dessert with your mother,” Larry says with a roll of his eyes. “So I’ll have some cheesecake.”

 

“And I’ll have alcohol,” Connor announces.

 

Larry looks at Zoe. “Is he always like this?”

 

Zoe looks like she doesn’t know how to respond, so Connor saves her the trouble. “Actually, most of the time I’m a fucking delight,” he says snidely. “It’s just that you bring out the worst in me because you are, indeed, the worst.” He raises his wine glass. “A toast. To my father, who is the worst.”

 

Larry’s eyes flash with anger. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

 

“Nope,” says Connor cheerfully. “I’m embarrassing you.” Then he turns to Zoe. “Tell us more about your work in schools next year, Zo.”

 

Zoe’s expression is thunderous, but she does start explaining what she’ll be doing after the Christmas holidays, and Connor finishes the bottle of wine, and feels a little bad that he’s put his sister in such an awkward position, but he’ll apologize to her later.

 

When Larry’s finally finished his fucking cheesecake, they get up to go, and Larry hugs Zoe and the waiter gives her a piece of cheesecake wrapped up to go, and Larry ignores Connor entirely, which is just dandy. Since Larry has, once again, been rude as fuck to the waiter, Connor makes sure to slip the waiter a twenty dollar bill before they leave when Larry’s not looking.

 

The obviously terrified teenager looks grateful and more than a little sympathetic, as she had definitely overheard some of their conversation. “Happy Thanksgiving,” he says to her with a shrug, and follows Zoe out to her car.

 

She sits in the car for a long moment before she says anything. “Okay,” she says finally. “When I said get drunk, I didn’t mean get nasty. Fucking hell, Connor.”

 

“I’m sorry, were we at the same meal?” Connor says incredulously. “Did you hear what he said about you? What kind of fucked up backhanded compliment was that?”

 

Zoe looks at him and blinks. “Connor,” she says slowly, “that’s not… it’s not new information to me. That… that you’re the smart one.”

 

It’s Connor’s turn to blink. “What? That’s bullshit.”

 

Zoe laughs a little. “No, it’s not,” she says firmly. “Everything was so easy for you at school. You… you got into Columbia so easily, because your grades were amazing even though you were barely ever in class. You just completely breezed through everything. If you’d actually tried, you’d have been valedictorian, easily.”

 

“Your grades were just as good as mine,” Connor says defensively.

 

“And I worked my ass off for them,” Zoe points out. “You didn’t try. You were always brilliant. Everyone knew, even when you were a kid. You learned to read super early and it took me way longer. Mom thought I had a learning disability for a bit when I was a kid. I did all these tests and they concluded that I wasn’t an idiot, I was at the normal stage for kids my age, it was just that you were so much further ahead.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I’m the smart one,” Connor argues. “There are different kinds of intelligence.”

 

“Oh, I know that now,” says Zoe with an actual laugh. “You’re a dumbass in a lot of ways. But you’re very intelligent, and you know that. I think Dad just thinks that you should have used that intelligence differently.”

 

“Yeah, well, God nerfed me with mental illness, apparently,” Connor says with a roll of his eyes. “That and a terminal case of not giving a fuck.”

 

Zoe tilts her head a little. “You do give a fuck, though,” she points out, her voice softening a little. “You give a fuck about the bookstore. And about Evan, and Mom.”

 

“And you,” Connor says immediately. “I give so many fucks about you, Zo.”

 

Zoe smiles, this subtle smile that’s just beautifully real. “Right back at you,” she says, and finally they’re heading home.

 

* * *

 

Evan’s mom had gone to bed about an hour before, but Evan was still wide awake. He thought about answering some emails for work but decided that it was a federal fucking holiday and he wasn’t going to bother tonight.

Sabrina had texted him to say she was sorry to miss him while he was home; she had gone to Thanksgiving at Graham’s parents’ house in Phoenix and wouldn’t get back until he was already in New York again. Honestly, it was probably for the best, because Evan wasn’t sure he could face her again so soon after getting drinks last month. He would probably fall apart if he saw Sabrina and Graham playing happy couple around the holidays, and he didn’t want to think about that.

Bored and aware that if he went on his laptop at all he would just end up working or creeping on Graham’s facebook into the wee hours of the morning, Evan decided to inspect his bookshelf to see if he had left anything in his childhood bedroom worth bringing back to New York with him. There were a lot of old comic books, but most of them were really Evan’s mom’s so he’d leave them here. A library book from his high school that he had never returned because the librarian made him so nervous he once almost threw up on her, so he just paid for the book with his first Pottery Barn paycheck late in his senior year.

Evan scanned the shelf some more, and then noticed there was a thin book peeking out from the back. He pulled it out, dusting off the cover and smiling as he realized it was his eighth-grade yearbook. Evan hadn’t looked at it probably since he had graduated the eighth grade. He had been mortified about the whole thing. He wore the same tie as he had worn to his sparsely attended bar mitzvah and his mom had burst into frustrated tears because he had undone the knot after the bar mitzvah and neither Evan nor his mom had any idea how you tied a tie. In the end they called Jared Kleinman’s father and he helped Evan out in the middle school parking lot… and when Evan needed to wear a tie again he just googled how to tie it.

Everyone in eighth grade had done a whole page for themselves, mostly filled with pictures and song lyrics and other fourteen-year-old nonsense. Evan flipped through the yearbook, smiling when he got to Alana Beck’s page, which showcased her in all of her 14-year old, brace-faced glory, her arm around Sabrina in a lot of the pictures. Evan had sort of forgotten that they were best friends in middle school. On Alana’s page she had listed out a few goals for herself, including “Run for office” and Evan laughed and immediately sent a picture to Connor of it, commenting, _“Evidence that the bus accidents were premeditated.”_

A moment later, Evan’s phone was buzzing. He picked it up and saw that it was Connor, so he answered. “Hey.”

“Oh my god, she was totally trying to kill us.”

“Definitely,” Evan said, laughing a little. “Since she was fourteen, apparently.”

“Where did you find that?” Connor asked.

“Our eighth-grade yearbook,” Evan said. “Found it in my old room.” He kept paging through it, and his heart squeezed a bit tightly as he read Connor’s page. “Oh man, I forgot your page was just a list of your ten favorite books.”

Connor laughed. “I guess some things don’t change.”

“Awww you put _A Wrinkle In Time_ on this list. I loved that book. I checked it out from the library so much that the librarian put aside a copy for me when they sold off the old books,” Evan said and then sort of wished he hadn’t.

“Oh man, that book is legit.”

“I know. I saw part of the movie once?”

“Ugh don’t talk to me about the movie,” Connor said dismissively. “Movie adaptations can be great, but they can be such a letdown. Like the third -”

“Harry Potter movie?” Evan said, excitement stopping him from remembering not to interrupt.

Connor laughed genuinely. “Yes. The third movie was awful because, like, aesthetically it worked well and Harry actually had messy hair. But they cut the _entire backstory_ of the Marauders which means that all of the Snape stuff that happens later has no context!”

“I know!” Evan said, and he was laughing too, genuinely delighted, because he still wasn’t used to the fact that sometimes he would say something and Connor would just understand… or vice versa. Evan didn’t normally manage to connect well.

“What was your eighth grade yearbook page like?”

“Weird,” Evan said honestly.

“Can’t be that weird.”

“I mean, it was weird. Half of it was a map of Ellison State Park so, you know, dream big fourteen year old me.”

“Were you planning to be a park ranger or something?” Connor asked.

“Totally. I was pretty sure I was going to live in a cabin somewhere in Yellowstone when I was fourteen,” Evan said, frowning slightly. “Probably better that I didn’t. Could you imagine if I’d died twenty times because I kept getting attacked by bears?”

Connor let out a laugh but Evan could sort of tell he didn’t find that joke terribly funny. “So uh, sorry, I missed your text earlier. Are you alright? You said your dad was an asshole.”

“Oh that,” Evan said because he had sort of forgotten he had vented to Connor about that earlier in the day. “You know, his usual bullshit. He congratulated me on my new job even though I told him about it last time we talked. Oh, and I guess he and his wife are planning to try and have another kid.”

“Oh,” Connor said.

“Yeah I guess they’re worried that if they wait any longer, there’ll be a weird gap between Amelia and the new baby,” Evan said and he hated how strained and tense his voice came out, he hated how obvious it was that the news had stung.

“Jesus, Evan, that’s…”

“It’s not a big deal,” Evan said. Evan lied. He wrinkled his nose and tried again. “Well, okay, it bothered me. But he always bothers me. I’m his kid in one sentence and then like, I dunno, a distant cousin in the next or something.” He sighed. “If he manages to have another kid, even if Tracy’s pregnant right now, I will be twenty-eight years older than them.”

“Fuck.”

“I know. Like. I get that he went and made a nice little replacement family but honestly it’s sort of embarrassing to have a sibling who has no fucking clue who you are.”

“Yeah.”

Evan realized that maybe he had said too much. He cleared his throat, resumed flipping through the yearbook. “How was lunch with Larry?”  
Connor groaned. “Awful.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He said this fucking thing about how Zoe had a PhD but I was supposed to be the smart one and it just. It really fucking pissed me off.”

“What the hell?” Evan said, frowning in disgust. “Your dad is a prick.”

“So’s yours.”

Evan sighed. “I know.” He flipped another page in the yearbook. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Don’t worry about it, nothing to be done about Larry. At least afterward I got to have pie and hang out with my mom and Zoe though. So that was good.”

“I’m glad. Did your mom like her book?”

“I think so. I hope she did. She was excited about the French.”

“Good,” Evan said, smiling a little.

“Did your grandma give you a hard time?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, smiling slightly. “I think I kind of threw Mr. Abrahamson under the bus a little to excuse the fact that I skipped Yom Kippur this year.”

“That’s your neighbor, right?”

“Yeah, he lives downstairs,” Evan said. “In my defense, I _have_ gone to schul with him. Just not that often.”

“You’ve gone to the synagogue with your neighbor?”

“He’s old, Connor! He wants someone to go with, I want someone to go with. It’s not a big deal.”

“You really are a boy scout. I bet you help old ladies cross the street too.”

“Shut up.”

“Speaking of going to a synagogue… How do you get the yarmulkes to stay on?” Connor asked. “I’ve always wondered.”

Evan laughed. “Oh, we don’t reveal those secrets. You gotta join the club for that answer.”

“No but seriously.”

Evan laughed. “Honestly? Hair clips.”

“Wait, really?”

“Did you think people glued them to their heads?”

“Kind of, yeah?” Connor said with a laugh. “Or there was some kind of… Jewish sorcery going on. What if you’re bald?”

“I’m not bald so I don’t know. I use a hair clip.”

Connor laughed again. Evan turned a page in his yearbook, and spotted Connor’s name, signed in Sharpie, in all caps. No message. Just CONNOR. “Hey. You signed my yearbook.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. You did.”

Evan climbed into his twin bed and relaxed back against the pillows. He and Connor stayed on the phone a while longer, just talking about their Thanksgivings and Evan felt warm and there was this comfortable heaviness in his chest, like he’d been pulled in for a tight hug. Connor was amazing. He’d always been amazing. And he was kind and generous and he didn’t deserve his dad being an asshole to him today, and Evan wished he could take away that hurt and anger. Eventually, Evan realized his throat was getting sore from talking so much, and he looked at his watch and realized it had gotten way late, like close to three late, and when he told Connor, Connor sounded surprised. “Shit.”

“I know.”

“We should go to sleep.”

“I never sleep well here,” Evan said softly. “It’s too quiet.”

“Same,” Connor said. “Maybe living with Andi for so long broke me. I keep half considering playing, like, whale noises or something.”

Evan laughed. “What kind of whale?” He asked. He was exhausted. His throat hurt from talking, but Connor’s voice was soft in his ear, and Evan didn’t want to hang up. He wanted to keep this warm heaviness in his chest, he wanted to keep this moment.

Evan fell asleep. Or so he realized when he opened his eyes to the morning sun streaming in. He looked at his phone and saw that the call had disconnected, and his battery was at like four per cent. It was six in the morning and Evan and his mother weren’t going to bother with shopping until at least noon. Evan plugged his phone in and saw there was a text from Connor, maybe an hour before. “ _Oh my god we fell asleep. What the fuck.”_

_“Sorry about that. I guess your whale noises were soothing after all.”_

 

* * *

 

After waking up and realizing that he had, in fact, fallen asleep talking to Evan, Connor goes back to sleep and doesn’t wake up again until his door opens and there’s Zoe, standing in the doorway, and he sits up and blinks at her a few times.

 

“Mom and I are going shopping,” she says. “I’m assuming you don’t want to come, but I figured I’d at least ask if you wanted to come.”

 

“Not really,” Connor admits. “The only thing I ever buy is books, and I’m literally about to buy a bookstore, so… no, I’m good.”

 

Zoe smirks. “You know Mom is going to buy you clothes, even if you’re not there.”

 

Connor laughs a little and looks at his phone. It’s just gone 10am. He’s still a little tired, and he knows he’ll be up late tonight to pick up Zoe from her party, so he thinks he can justify going back to sleep if Zoe and his mom are going shopping.

 

“If she does insist on buying clothes,” Connor says after a moment, “I could probably use some underwear.”

 

He doesn’t mention the fact that Evan has genuinely all but ripped his clothes off so many times that it’s definitely affected the structural integrity of some of his boxers.

 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Gross,” she says good-naturedly. “We probably won’t be out too long, but we’ll probably bring back takeout. Preferences?”

 

“Honestly, I could go for some Chipotle,” Connor confesses, and Zoe’s eyes light up.

 

“Oooh, good plan. I’m in.” She gives him a smile, then waves a little. “Sleep well.”

 

With that, she closes his door and Connor curls back up in bed and thinks to himself that it’s really nice that he and his sister can have conversations like normal people these days.

 

When he wakes up a third time, it’s just after midday, and he takes his time having a shower, getting dressed and heading downstairs to make a cup of coffee. Then he settles on the couch with the book his mom gave him and quickly gets engrossed in the world of the story. He doesn’t stop reading until he hears the front door unlock and Zoe and his mom show up with bags of Mexican food, which they set out on the coffee table in the living room.

 

Cynthia’s eyes light up when she sees he’s at least halfway through the book. “Do you like it?” she asks eagerly, and Connor nods enthusiastically.

 

“Yeah, it’s great,” he says with a smile. “It’s really nice to read something set somewhere I know, like, nothing about.”

 

“Where’s it set?” Zoe asks, dipping a chip in some guacamole.

 

“Mid-nineteenth century New Zealand,” Connor explains, and Zoe’s eyes widen a little.

 

“Okay, yeah, fair enough. Was New Zealand even a thing back then?”

 

“The book’s set in 1866,” Connor says, “and New Zealand became a British colony in 1841. So, only just.”

 

They settle in and eat their burritos and Zoe’s ordered extra guacamole, because she always does, and Connor listens as his mom and his sister talk about their shopping. Cynthia pulls out a couple of shirts and some underwear from one of her many bags and presents them to Connor, who thanks her because the shirts actually look pretty cool. There’s one that has tiny pineapples all over it which make him think of Andi and he’ll have to remember to snap a photo of it later.

 

“Also, I know this is a little much,” says Cynthia and Connor braces himself, because who knows what she’s got up her sleeve, “but I just really thought you’d suit this.” She pulls a dark blue blazer out of yet another bag, and Connor has to admit, he thinks it’s actually really nice. His mom makes him try it on, and it fits really nicely, and though he does have one nice blazer it’s probably worth having another one, because he’s about to be a responsible business owner and as nice as Evan looks in a suit, Connor suspects he’d just look ridiculous if he tried to wear one.

 

“I really like this,” he says with a grin. “Thanks, Mom.”

 

“You look so handsome,” she says with a smile, and Zoe snorts and Connor laughs, then shrugs off the blazer and goes back to his burrito.

* * *

 

Evan and his mother shopped a little in the afternoon. Since they didn’t have to worry about Christmas presents, mostly they sought out practical stuff that they needed that happened to be on sale. Evan picked up a few new dress shirts, his mom found some new shoes, and they walked around the mall eating soft pretzels and debating whether or not they actually liked Bath and Body Works.

“I think I like it,” His mom said. “Most of their stuff smells pretty good.”

“Yeah, but all of it also smells overwhelming. Like there’s no subtlety to the scents. You have to commit to smelling like Pink Cashmere or whatever all day.”

“Well maybe you feel that way because you only like stinky boy things,” His mom said, teasing, and Evan rolled his eyes at her.

“Stinky boy stuff?”

“I just don’t understand why it all has to smell musky.”

Evan nodded. “Yeah, a lot of it smells like awful? Like somewhere along the line everyone decided that men had to smell kind of like motor oil?”

“See? Stinky boy stuff,” His mom said, way too pleased with herself. Evan laughed at her and realized just how much he missed her when they were apart. He talked to her often, sure, but the phone always added a level of stress and Evan always felt like part of her was just super disappointed in him when they talked. But being here, seeing her laughing and teasing him about silly things, Evan realized that… maybe she just missed him too.

He had spent a lot of time being objectively horrible his mother. After he turned eighteen, Evan quit therapy and meds cold turkey and if she ever said she disagreed, Evan would all but jam his fingers into his ears and scream he was fine until she listened. She hadn’t wanted Evan to go away for college his sophomore year, and he knew part of that was because she was scared that the change would upset him… and so he picked a school as far away as he was willing to be and threatened to get his dad to help him move into the dorms in August if his mom didn’t get on board.

“How are you going to get there if I don’t drive you, Evan, have you thought about that?” She had shouted at him. “I am your mother, you do not get to just _decide_ this without at least talking to me.”

“If you won’t let me go, I’ll call dad and get him to take me.”

That was an empty threat, of course, but it had done the trick. She drove him off to college at the end of the summer and they said a very tense goodbye and Evan wholeheartedly refused to let her be right about him. He threw himself into his studies, joined the debate team, got a girlfriend, doing all of it with an attitude of “fuck you, mom, I’m fine.”

He wasn’t fine of course. He wasn’t. He was having daily panic attacks and he was drinking a lot and he threw himself into being Sabrina Patel’s boyfriend because if he was someone’s boyfriend then he had proof that somebody must like him. And every time his mom asked if he was okay, tried to check in, he just shrugged her off. Pushed her away. Because he couldn’t let her be right about being damaged and broken and in need of repair.

By the time he graduated from undergrad, he and his mom were not in a good place. She was trying so hard and Evan was totally shut down. She cried when he told her he was going to law school in New York, that he was moving in with Sabrina, that she didn’t have to worry because the Patels were going to help them move. “I know I don’t have to worry, Evan,” She had said sadly. “But it doesn’t mean I won’t.”

Evan tried to be better about telling his mother things after he and Sabrina broke up. Mostly because he had done The Worst thing and moved without letting her know. She had called him in a panic and Evan really had nothing to say for himself. “Damn it Evan I haven’t heard from you in weeks and Sabrina told me you moved out, what is going on?”

He sort of owned up to a little of what was happening then. That he and Sabrina weren’t together anymore, that they had been having problems for a while. He talked her out of getting on a plane that night, because she kept crying that she didn’t want him to be alone in New York, and it was a testament to how well he could argue that she didn’t end up coming. Evan wasn’t alone. He saw hundreds of people every day. He was at the top of his law school class, he had landed an internship for the summer, he was doing super great and she didn’t need to worry.

It was like a mantra. “You don’t need to worry about me mom.”

By the time Evan killed himself, he had told her that so often that he genuinely thought maybe she would be relieved that he was gone. And he knew now that was just his brain. That his mom loved him and that she would have been devastated to lose him, that it would have broken her and he couldn’t really forgive himself for almost doing that. To her. He couldn’t believe how distant he had been because really, all she had ever tried to do was help him.

Maybe it was time for Evan to actually let her.

“Hey,” Evan said as they walked out of the mall. “So my therapist Marcia put me on a new medication a couple of months back and it’s really helping?”

His mom looked surprised. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I didn’t really like it at first because it made me really tired, but that went away after a month or so and… It’s really helping.”

“I’m really glad honey,” His mom said, and she was smiling, and she took his hand and gave it a squeeze and. Evan felt lighter. Happier.

“I… I just wish I had done it sooner,” he said to his mom awkwardly. “I shouldn’t have fought you so hard when I still lived at home, and I’m so sorry.”

She frowned slightly at him. “Honey.”

“I’m serious. I was really an asshole to you a lot of the time and I -”

His mom stopped him, pulling him into a tight hug. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize to me, but I appreciate it. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

Zoe gets picked up to the jazz band reunion around 5pm, which is admittedly a little earlier than Connor expects her to go. Before she leaves, she points at Connor. “A deal’s a deal,” she says firmly. “You’re picking me up tonight.”

 

“What time?” Connor asks, and Zoe grins.

 

“Jazz cannot be constrained to time,” she says solemnly, and there’s a beep from outside, so she heads out the door, waving goodbye as she goes.

 

From her position on the couch where she’s curled up reading the book Connor gave her, his mom laughs. “They were out until dawn last time,” she says with a fond smile. “It’s nice they’re all still in touch, so many years later.”

 

“Sure,” says Connor, who absolutely cannot relate.

 

Cynthia closes her book and her smile turns slightly sad. “When I graduated high school I didn’t want to see anyone I grew up with ever again,” she admits.

 

“That’s a mood,” says Connor, moving to sit next to her. “The only person I talk to from high school is Evan, and even then that was kind of an accident.”

 

“How did you two cross paths again, anyway?” his mom asks, sounding curious. “I can’t remember if you told me.”

 

Connor is absolutely not going to tell his mother that he remet Evan in an elevator plunging to their deaths. “We actually ran into each other at the liquor store,” Connor settles on eventually. “Turns out we don’t live far from each other, and… well, Evan’s one of the few people who was never a total asshole to me in high school, so we got talking, and found we actually had a lot in common.”

 

“I think that’s really great,” says his mom, and she really does sound like she means it. “Evan’s a really nice boy.”

 

“We’re twenty-seven, Mom.”

 

“A nice man, then,” says his mom with a laugh. “Not bad to look at, either.”

 

“Mom!”

 

“I’m just saying,” Cynthia says innocently. She stands up and stretches a little. “Do you want cheese? I have cheese. And I’m going to have some wine.” Then she grins. “And you are _not_ going to have wine, because you have to drive and pick up your sister.”

 

“Not for another twelve hours, apparently,” Connor points out, but honestly he can live without wine, and turns on the television and starts flicking through the various streaming services to find something to watch.

 

When his mom gets back with cheese and crackers, she looks at the screen and lets out a gasp. “Ooh, go back.” Connor obliges, and stops when she tells him. “Dead Poets Society. I love this film. Do you want to watch it?”

 

“Sure,” Connor agrees, because he thinks he’s seen it before, though he might have been kinda high at the time, and remembers liking it. They settle in and start watching, going through a wheel of camembert and the crackers before they’re even a quarter of the way in.

 

“I wanted to be a teacher,” Cynthia says suddenly, and Connor turns to her, a little taken aback.

 

“I didn’t know that,” he admits. “Why didn’t you?”

 

She sighs. “I was planning on doing my Masters after I did my undergraduate degree, but I met your father and we got married and I just kind of kept putting it off. Then I had you and then your sister, and your father wanted me to be able to stay home with you two, and… I just never got around to it.” She smiles a little sadly. “It was all I wanted to do. I really liked the idea of inspiring kids, helping them learn. And when you were little, you were just so curious about everything. You wanted to know about all sorts of things, you asked so many questions. Do you remember what I used to say to you if you asked a question and I didn’t know the answer?”

 

“Let’s find out,” Connor says instantly, and the answer comes out automatically, even though he hasn’t thought about it in almost two decades. “We used to go to the library and find books about things. I remember.”

 

“You loved the books,” Cynthia says fondly. “Watching you as a kid, trying to find out everything you could… it was like what I thought teaching would be. I don’t regret that I stayed home with you and your sister when you were small.”

 

“I think you would have been a great teacher,” Connor says quietly. There’s something that sits weirdly, the knowledge that his mom had a dream that she never got to see come true. It stings, a little, especially knowing how hard he made her life as he got older.

 

Connor only vaguely remembers having seen this film before, but finds himself getting swept up in the story, finds himself getting swept up in these characters, in watching them discover literature, and there’s something about it that kind of makes his heart ache with recognition.

 

_“Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love - these are what we stay alive for.”_

 

The film continues on, and he and his mother sit there, quietly engrossed, and Connor’s heart aches for Neil as he argues with his father, aches in this way that’s visceral and real, because he knows what that feels like, and the film continues and Neil goes into his father’s office.

 

And from beside him, Cynthia lets out a choked sob.

 

And suddenly, Connor remembers this part of the film.

 

The part where Neil commits suicide.

 

The film continues on and Neil’s parents are crying over his dead body and Connor’s heart is pounding and he remembers what it felt like to die, to actually die, and it’s getting hard to breathe, he can’t breathe, he remembers coughing up a razor blade and…

 

His mother pauses the film and pulls him into a hug. “Sweetheart,” she says, her voice rough, “I didn’t… shit, I forgot that… oh, _sweetheart_.”

 

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” he murmurs into her shoulder. “Just… just give me a minute, it’s okay, it’s fine, I’m fine.”

 

She doesn’t let him go for a long time. When she does, her face is pale, and Connor’s dimly aware that his hands are shaking a little, but he forces a smile onto his face to try to keep her from looking so, so sad. “I honestly forgot about that part,” she says, her voice shaky. “I guess I… maybe I blocked it out. I love this film, but I haven’t watched it in a long time, and I forgot. I’m so, so sorry.”

 

“I forgot, too,” Connor admits. “It’s… it’s a good film, we should finish it.”

 

Connor’s mom takes his trembling hands in hers and holds them tight. “We can finish it if you want to,” she replies quietly. “But we can take a moment.”

 

They sit there for a while, and Connor manages to get his heart to stop racing, his breathing under control. “I didn’t mean to freak out,” he says awkwardly. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Cynthia says firmly. “You… it’s not just something that happened in a film, it’s…” Her eyes fill with tears, and Connor moves a little closer.

 

“It’s not just a film for you, either,” he says gently. “Mom. You had to… I’m so sorry, Mom, I never meant to hurt you, I didn’t do it to hurt you, I never, ever, ever wanted to hurt you-”

 

“I know you didn’t,” she rushes to assure him. “You were sick, Connor. You were sick, and I should have…” She stops, and shakes her head a little. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

 

“We said we were going to talk about it,” Connor says, feeling like now that it’s on the table, he has to grab this opportunity. “Not that I have a lot to say, I just… I feel like it’s this thing, this thing that’s hung over us for years, and after I went to college we just didn’t talk about it, we all act like it never happened, like I didn’t… like I didn’t fuck up a lot of things for you and Zoe and Dad.”

 

“You were sick,” his mom says, even firmer than before. “You being sick was not your fault, Connor. We didn’t understand. I’ve read and read and read about it but I still don’t fully understand, because I haven’t been there. Your sister… she’s helped me understand some things. Helped me understand to an extent, because of her studies and what she’s learned about mental illness, but at the end of the day, your experiences are your own, and we’ll never really, truly know how you felt. But I do know that it wasn’t your fault.”

 

“Zoe and I talk now,” Connor says cautiously. “We… since my birthday, we talk a lot more, and I think it’s helped? It’s… there’s a lot of hurt, and a lot of pain, and I was awful to her when I was younger. Fuck, I was awful to her recently. I isolated myself a lot and I lashed out because I felt like… like it was all on me, you know? Like I’d put in the work, I’d focused on getting through the day, I’d made the effort and the rest of the world could go fuck itself. And even when I felt better, even when I was seeing a therapist and on medication and didn’t feel like… didn’t feel like killing myself, I was still… I didn’t think about anyone but myself. And that was… that wasn’t right of me. It’s not… I’m trying not to be like that anymore.” He blinks a few times. His mom looks serious. “And Zoe just… we talk, at least once a week we see each other, and I just… it’s too little, too late, Mom. Or at least, it should be. After everything, she shouldn’t just… I don’t deserve to have her even give me the time of day.”

 

The words are spilling out and it’s only as he says them that he realizes how much he means them, how much having a relationship with his mother and his sister means to him, and how frankly fucking mind-blowing it is that they’ve put up with him for so long, that they’re just… letting him back in.

 

“Zoe and I talk, too,” says his mother quietly, squeezing his hand. “And she sees how hard you’re trying. She sees how you’re working toward something you care about, how you’re seeing a therapist and taking your medication.” His mom squeezes his hands again. “And she says that your friendship with Evan… that it’s helped. Because he’s someone who understands, better than I could, better than Zoe could. And maybe that’s what you’ve needed, this whole time. Someone who really understands.”

 

After a while, they stand up and go to make some hot chocolate in the kitchen and talk about less gut-wrenchingly personal things. It’s nearly an hour later when they finally finish the film, and Connor’s glad that they finish it, because it ends well, even though it’s still heart-breaking, and he and his mom are both a bit teary when it ends.

 

“A comedy next,” his mother says once they’re done, and goes to get herself another glass of wine, and they settle down to find another movie and end up watching Zoolander, which Cynthia admits is a definite guilty pleasure. “It’s so stupid. It makes me laugh every time.”

 

By the time the movie is over, Cynthia’s yawning intensely. “Too much wine?” Connor teases her. “Or are you just getting old?”

 

“Hush, you,” says his mom with a grin, then she yawns again. “I don’t want to leave you to wait up by yourself,” she says, a little regretfully, “but if I stay on this couch I’ll fall asleep. Do you mind if I go to bed?”

 

“It’s fine,” Connor assures her with a smile. “Sleep well.”

 

Cynthia kisses him on the cheek, then heads upstairs, and Connor flicks through the channels for a while, eventually settling on reruns of Friends, but that gets old after a while.

 

He’s feeling kind of antsy after the conversation with his mom. A little on edge. If he were back in New York, he’d probably call Evan and ask if he wants to come over, because Evan always makes him feel a little more… grounded.

 

It genuinely takes a minute for Connor to remember that they’re both in town for Thanksgiving. He pulls out his phone.

 

**What’s your mom’s address?**

 

Evan replies almost instantly.

 

**Why?**

 

**I’m bored, let’s hang out?**

 

* * *

 

_“What’s your mom’s address?”_

Evan looked at his phone in surprise around ten o’clock. _“Why?”_

_“I’m bored, let’s hang out?”_

Evan looked over at his mom, who was on her laptop laughing at someone’s facebook post about a post-Thanksgiving food coma. “Would you mind if I went somewhere with Connor tonight?”

His mom’s eyebrows shot up. “Where do you two intend to go this late at night?”

Evan felt his face heating up as he mumbled, “I don’t know he just asked if I wanted to hang out.”

His mom laughed. “Evan. Sweetheart. You’re twenty-seven years old, you don’t have to ask me if you can go out with your friend.”

“I know but I came home to visit you…”

“And I will be asleep in an hour,” She said, smiling. “You go. Have fun. You’re young and staying up until the early hours of the morning doesn’t hurt as much.”

“Okay.”

Evan texted Connor his mom’s address and then got up to put on his shoes. Maybe ten minutes passed and a car pulled into the driveway.

“Have fun. Don’t let Connor drink and drive.”

“Mom. Come on. I’m twenty-seven.”

“I know,” She said and Evan kissed her on the cheek and then put on his jacket and headed out the door. He realized it was kind of weird to see Connor driving because he had never seen him drive a car before. He had assumed that Connor probably knew how, but it still startled him just a bit to see such an unusual sight.

Evan climbed into the passenger seat and put on his seat belt. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Connor said. “I found some playlists I made in high school and now we both have to suffer.”

Evan smiled. “Okay.”

“Also Zoe’s out with the jazz band people and I told her I would pick her up,” Connor said. “So I have to kill time and be sober until she wants to come home.”

“And you want to waste time with me?”

Connor smiled. “Absolutely.”

Connor pulled out of the driveway and music started playing and Evan was sort of struck by the fact that if they had actually talked in high school, this might not be the first time Evan had ever been driven around by Connor. It might not be the first time he was hearing his mix.

They passed their high school on their way out of town. Passed the tree where Evan used to hide before classes most mornings. He told Connor as much.

“Oh yeah?” Connor said. “I used to smoke pot under that tree sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I was stoned a lot in high school.”

Evan had known that but he didn’t want to say so. He didn’t want to mention his paranoia that Connor might use that therapy letter against him, that he had watched him, terrified, for most of the year until Connor disappeared for a month around Thanksgiving.

“So what’s the plan?” Evan asked.

“Honestly, I’m starving. My mom doesn’t really cook much. We basically demolished a wheel of cheese for dinner. Want to go get food with me?”

“What are you thinking this late?”

Connor grinned. “How do you feel about pancakes?”

Evan smiled at him. “Generally positive.

Connor pulled into the IHOP parking lot about ten minutes and two very quality My Chemical Romance songs later. They headed inside and got a table, finding that despite the fact that it was nearly eleven o’clock, the place was full of people, mostly younger than they were.

“Ever come here late in high school?” Connor asked him.

“No,” Evan said frankly. “That’s something that required either friends or a car, and I had neither.”

Connor frowned a little at that.

“How about you?”

“A few times. Usually with Dennis, my weed guy?” Connor said.

Evan smiled. “Of course you hung out with your weed guy.”

“Everyone else thought I might shoot up the school,” Connor said, and Evan had to admit that he made a good point. Evan had privately bought into the Jared Kleinman line of thinking for a while there, after Connor took off with his letter. He worried somehow, if something happened, that he would get blamed for Connor’s actions.

A harassed-looking waitress stopped at their table to drop off waters and apologize, because she had gotten double sat, and Evan made a mental note to leave her a big tip because that was the sort of thing he could do now.

“I wish we had been friends in high school,” Connor said suddenly, then turned a bit pink like he hadn’t meant to say it.

“Me too,” Evan said, unconsciously rubbing at his arm, the ghostly weight of a cast suddenly present. “Definitely would have beat hanging out with Jared all the time.”

“Can you please explain that to me?” Connor said. “I never got that. I know you were sorta… awkward in high school, but Kleinman was a real dickhead. It always seemed weird.”

“We were family friends,” Evan said, shrugging.

“Yeah and my parents were friends with Brian Harris’s parents, but you didn’t see the two of us hanging out,” Connor said, rolling his eyes.  “Come on, there’s gotta be more to it.”

Evan could feel his face turning red. “You cannot tell anyone I told you this.”

“The IHOP is a safe space,” Connor said solemnly.

“We kind of… dated. Sort of. For a little while at the end of senior year.”

“Shut up.”

Evan hung his head.

“You’re fucking with me,” Connor said and Evan shook his head. “But he was, like, _mean_ to you.”

“Not always.”

“Yes always! He fucking laughed when you had a panic attack in English junior year.”

“Fuck,” Evan said. “That Daisy Buchanan presentation was a nightmare.”

“Yeah and Kleinman was a dick about it. And you dated him?”

Evan sighed. Shrugged. “I mean... You remember me from high school. If you ran into me, I’d be the one apologizing. I just. I guess I just figured, like, nobody would like me so that fact that he seemed to, even if he was a dick?” Evan realized he was tearing apart his paper napkin and stopped. “Whatever, it ended pretty quickly so.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Evan sighed. “Uh. He sort of asked me to prom and then ditched me pretty fast after that.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah it was kind of mortifying and my mom threatened to call his and basically I never talked to him again after graduation?”

“That sucks,” Connor said. Then, like he was considering something, Connor volunteered. “My first kiss was with Dennis the weed guy.”

“No,” Evan said, and he couldn’t help but smile just a little.

“Oh yeah. It was on my sixteenth birthday too. Dennis made some joke about me being sweet sixteen and never been kissed and, I dunno, he’s straight but we ended up making out.” He took a sip of his water. “I figured you deserved an embarrassing story too.”

Their waitress returned and Evan and Connor ordered food. Evan went with banana pancakes and Connor got some pumpkin spice thing with a side of scrambled eggs and turkey bacon, smirking at Evan the whole time.

“You could just get regular bacon,” Evan mumbled, his face feeling a bit warm.

“But then I wouldn’t be able to talk you into eating the turkey bacon while I make a case for ordering scrambled eggs,” Connor said. “Can I ask who your first kiss was?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “I was thirteen. Esther Schwartz. She’s Jared’s cousin and she was about a foot taller than me.”

Connor smiled. “That’s really wholesome.”

Evan shook his head. “It was at a bar mitzvah too.”

“Amazing.”

“My mom saw it happen.”

Connor laughed so hard Evan was a little afraid he might not be able to catch his breath again, but eventually his laughter subsided slightly, into giggles, and Connor was so fucking adorable Evan could hardly stand it.

“Okay Chuckles,” Evan said. “You owe me another embarrassing story. First time you had sex?”

Connor shrugged. “What are we counting as sex? Are we gonna get all Bill Clinton about it or…?”

“Just, whatever you considered your first time.”

Connor appeared to mull it over while he took a sip of his water. “Okay. I was nineteen. It was in the bathroom at a poetry club event, and it was bad. Like super awkward. I think his name was… Michael? I’ve blocked it out.”

“That bad?”

“Yes. That bad.”

“Poetry club?” Evan said, teasing.

“I had a phase,” Connor said with a shrug. “Tried to write a novel too, but it never really got off the ground. But yeah, nineteen year old me did alright in poetry club.”

“Is that so?” Evan said. “Did you snap after someone had an orgasm?”

“Fuck off.”

“I feel like you’ve definitely had sex while someone involved had on a beret, please tell me I’m not wrong.”

“What that thing you do with the constitution? The fifth! I plead the fifth!”

Evan laughed. “That protects against self-incrimination, so… you played yourself there.”

“Ugh why am I friends with a lawyer?” Connor said, rolling his eyes. He pointed a finger at Evan. “Your first time? And don’t tell me it was Jared Kleinman or I will puke.”

“No, it was Emily Schetcher from my English class, right before I turned nineteen,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. “I was absolutely convinced that I had gotten her pregnant. I didn’t have a super great grip on how condoms worked and spent weeks afterwards agonizing over failure rates.” Connor started to laugh. “It was not funny, Connor, I never saw her again. I still don’t know for sure that I don’t have a mistake baby out there.”

“How old would Evan Junior be now?” Connor said, still laughing. “Eight? Nine?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “I will kill you and make sure you stay dead,” He said, throwing a bit of napkin at Connor.

Who stopped laughing suddenly. “Hey, I mean, you’re a big shot lawyer now. Any mistake kid would be lucky to have you.”

“Yeah, but also then I have to accept that being a deadbeat is genetic,” Evan muttered and Connor’s smile vanished and he shouldn’t have said that. “Anyway, I dunno if the first guy I had sex with counts because I’d already slept with a girl, but there’s no bisexual rule book so I’ll tell you anyway. I was nineteen. His name was Ross and he was too old for me and it was very awkward and my mom had to pick me up from his house after so yeah.”

“How old is too old?”

“Twenty-five,” Evan said, shrugging. “We both took this stats class and we had sex two more times before I realized it wasn’t me that was super bad at it.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah,” Evan said with a shrug.

“So you went to community college for a year, right?”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “Money was sort of tight and my mom didn’t… she didn’t want me to move out, I don’t think. I think she worried the change would be too much at once.”

Connor nodded. “I had to jump through a lot of hoops to convince my parents to let me go to New York for college.”

“Yeah,” Evan said. He looked down at his shredded napkin. “I sort of. I was a dick to my mom about staying here for another year. I, like, ragequit therapy and taking meds as soon as I turned eighteen.”

Connor nodded.

“I was just so angry at her,” Evan said awkwardly. “Even though, obviously, it wasn’t her fault that I’m… Anyway, we fought about it a lot when I finally did leave.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor said.

“Don’t worry about it, we’re okay now,” Evan said.

“Yeah.”

Their food arrived. Evan did steal a piece of the turkey bacon. They chewed thoughtfully and quietly until Connor swallowed and said, “Were you the kid in second grade who told everyone that Santa wasn’t real?”

Evan laughed. “Yes, that was definitely me.”

“That’s a badass move. I love it.”

Evan smiled harder. “I was just being a punk because I was tired of hearing about Christmas.”

“Badass eight year old,” Connor said.

“Says the kid who infamously broke a printer.”

Connor’s face went a bit pink. “Uh, yeah…”

“Sorry,” Evan said, feeling stupid for mentioning it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean, I -”

“She skipped me for line leader,” Connor said softly. “And made a massive deal about it and embarrassed me in front of everyone… I was eight, you know? I freaked out and then everybody believed the rumor that I threw the printer and -”

“Mrs. G. was an asshole,” Evan interrupted firmly. “She was being deliberately mean to you, and you were a little kid. She was an asshole.”

“So was I,” Connor said. “I… was a pretty bad kid, honestly.”

“Connor -” Evan started.

“My parents went through hell just to get me to age eighteen and then I fucked off to New York and didn’t call or talk to them and when Zoe moved to New York I avoided her for years and -”

“Connor,” Evan said softly. “Are you alright?”

Connor sighed. He put down his fork and put his head in his hands. “No. Yes. I dunno. My mom and I watched a movie earlier and I… freaked out? In front of her. I just… they all had to put up with my shit for years and then when I finally managed to get okay, I. Started. Dying. And it could have been horrible for them, they would have had to…”

“I know,” Evan said. He reached across the table and took Connor’s hand, gave it a tight tight squeeze. “I get it. I’ve been sitting with this… It would have killed my mom. It would have broken her, what I did and I-I know that, but… But it didn’t stick. We made it through and we can. We can be better.”

“That’s pretty optimistic,” Connor said.

“I know, I’m not super great at it yet,” Evan said with a shrug. “I mean I. Suck at optimism. And I gave myself alcohol poisoning this summer because I also suck at wanting to be alive, sometimes, so. I know this probably sounds like I’m full of shit, but -”

“Maybe everything isn’t hopeless bullshit?”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “At the very least… our moms will be happy. If we keep trying.”

“Yeah,” Connor said. He smiled, let go of Evan’s hand. “This is depressing. Tell me something else embarrassing.”

Evan laughed. “Uh… I did debate in college? To try to get over my, uh, fear of public speaking. And during my first debate I got through my first few points and then I had to sprint away from the podium to throw up.”

“No.”

“Oh yes. I’m a stress vomiter.”

“That’s so nasty,” Connor said, taking a bite of his food as if he was not bothered.

“I know. I actually…When we were dying, every single time I came back my mouth tasted like puke.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep,” Evan said. “Because I stressed myself out about the bar. And puked.”

“Wow.” Connor said. “So you’re the kid who puked.”

“Oh yeah. At least once or twice a school year. All through law school. And as an adult.” He shrugged. “I’m just. The guy who pukes.”

Connor laughed. “I’m sorry. I know it’s an anxiety thing -”

“No it’s kind of funny out of context,” Evan said. “You’re allowed to laugh at me for puking when I get nervous. We’re there.”

Connor smiled.

They finished their food after a while, and Evan caught himself reaching for his napkin and starting to rip it into pieces.

“What?” Connor said. “What’s going on?”

“It’s really stupid.”

“I bet it’s not.”

“Oh, trust me, it super is.”

“Come on, spit it up.”

Evan sighed. “I really… want a cigarette.”

Connor laughed. “Oh is that all?”

“I’m trying to quit,” Evan mumbled.

“You’re trying to quit or you’re hiding it from your mom?”

“It can be both,” Evan said.

“Come on. You can have one when we leave.”

Evan sighed.

“Have you really not had a cigarette since Wednesday night?”

“I snuck one in the backyard while my mom was asleep.”

“Still, that’s pretty good. If you wanted to quit, I bet you could.”

Evan frowned. “I want to it’s just…”

“Nobody’s saying you have to do it right now.”

“You sound like Marcia,” Evan said, pouting a bit.

Connor laughed.

The pair of them argued over who would pay their bill when they finished their meal. Evan won, because he was better at arguing and they both knew it, but Connor insisted that he handle the tip and left one that was worth more than half their bill. Their waitress giggled and told them they made a good team. It made Evan flush a bit because, yeah, he and Connor did make a good team.

Evan did end up smoking a cigarette, standing beside Connor’s mom’s car while Connor went and started it so it would get warm. He came back outside and shoved his hands in his pockets, standing beside Evan and smirking at him. “What?” Evan asked.

“Nothing. You just look sort of like a bad boy, out here in your black coat, smoking.”

“Oh shut up.”

Connor laughed. “Gimme a drag.”

“What? No,” Evan said. “You don’t smoke.”

“I don’t, but I have. One puff won’t kill me. Come on.”

Evan rolled his eyes and held the cigarette out to Connor. He took the cigarette from Evan’s hand and pulled in a long drag, his cheeks hollowing and Evan found himself distractingly reminded of how Connor looked when he gave a blow job. Connor exhaled, without coughing, and handed the cigarette back. Evan took his own drag, his lips where Connor’s had just been, and he sort of wanted to kiss Connor.

But that would be weird because they were in their hometown and this wasn’t sex, so Evan kept his mouth to himself.

“Come on, let’s go for a ride,” Connor said. Evan threw away his cigarette butt and climbed into the warm car. Connor’s playlist was on again, this time drifting into some old Panic! at the Disco songs and they drove out of town, over the bridge and past this old water tower and Connor pointed out this place Evan had never heard of before, some orchard, telling Evan how as a kid his family used to go on picnics there.

“That’s cool,” Evan said. “I’m glad you had that.”

“It was cool when I was a kid, yeah.” Connor said. “My dad crashed our toy plane once.”

“I’m sorry lunch with him wasn’t great yesterday.”

“It’s alright. It’s just… never great with him.”

“I’m sorry,” Evan said softly. “I wish that it wasn’t so hard.”

“Thanks,” Connor said.

“Can I ask where we’re going?” Evan asked after they had been driving for a while.

Connor smiled. “Okay so don’t be mad… but I texted Dennis and he said I could pick up while I was here.”

“Seriously?”

“Dude, weed is sort of expensive in New York,” Connor said. “It’ll be quick, I swear.”

“You had better not get pulled over,” Evan said, laughing. “I’m literally a lawyer.”

They made it to Dennis’s place a few minutes later. He and Connor caught up for a little while, and Connor introduced Evan as “his lawyer” which was very seriously funny, and then Connor was shaking Dennis’s hand and heading out the door.

“How are you getting that through airport security?” Evan asked, smirking at Connor.

“I usually just buy a pack of cigarettes and roll them into joints,” Connor said, shrugging. “What brand do you smoke? You can have my extras.”

“So much for me quitting.”

They drove back into town, into the parking lot of their high school, and Connor looked over at Evan, his gaze calculating.

“What?”

“Does weed actually make you paranoid? Or are you paranoid about smoking weed?”

Evan laughed. “It literally makes me paranoid.” He shrugged. “Sabrina had a phase.”

“Is that so?” Connor was rolling a joint while he asked.

“Yeah. I just got really convinced that everyone could tell I was high. And also I sort of thought I needed to wake up? Like I was really sure I was dreaming and I wanted to wake up.”

“That sucks,” Connor said. “Come out and smoke with me?”

“I thought you had to stay sober,” Evan said, rolling his eyes.

“I’m gonna take a couple of hits off of this joint and Zoe probably won’t call me for hours. Also, like, my tolerance for weed is still pretty high. Come on. We can give ourselves an experience we missed out on in high school because we didn’t have friends.”

“Fine,” Evan said, because he was a sucker for anything Connor suggested. “But I’m not smoking that with you.”

“Fine.”

They climbed out of the car, and it was a lot colder than Evan remembered. He swore when he stepped outside, wishing he had brought a hat with him.

“Fuck it’s cold,” Evan said, shivering a little.

“We are only out here because we are being better kids to our moms and that probably means not smoking weed in her car,” Connor mumbled, and he and Evan both lit up. “Tell me something else.”

“Like what?” Evan asked.

“Your first cigarette.”

“I smoked a lot when I drunk in college, so I don’t remember,” Evan said. “But then it became a habit in law school.”

“I see.”

“First time you smoked weed?”

Connor shrugged. “I think I was… thirteen or so?”

Evan nodded. He took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled, watching as Connor exhaled the hit he took. Connor was watching Evan carefully, his eyes dark and Evan had seen that look before.

Fuck.

“C’mere.”

Evan stepped closer.

Connor took another hit. He didn’t exhale, instead, he grabbed Evan by the waist and said, his voice a little raspy. “Open your mouth.”

Evan obeyed because well. He said he wasn’t smoking the joint. He had said nothing about shotgunning. Connor exhaled and Evan inhaled and then exhaled slowly.

And then Connor was kissing Evan roughly, pushing him against the cold metal of Mrs. Murphy’s car and he used his knee to nudge Evan’s legs apart a little, his free hand cupping Evan though his jeans. Evan dropped his cigarette on the blacktop and stubbed it out and Connor used his fingers to extinguish the joint, and then he was opening the door to the backseat and pushing Evan inside, straddling him and closing the door.

Evan pulled him in for a kiss. Connor tasted like maple syrup and weed and it was a weird combination but Evan liked it a lot. Connor pulled away and he was unbuckling his own belt, then Evan’s and then he dove in for a kiss and both of them simultaneously reached for each other and Connor let out a surprised laugh, and Evan realized Connor barely fit in the backseat, his head was practically hitting the ceiling when he tried to sit but none of that was important because he needed to get Connor off.

And apparently Connor had similar thoughts because he began earnestly stroking Evan, panting against his lips and Evan’s own wrist was twisted at an odd angle but Connor was gasping and moaning so he kept moving, kept pumping him and stroking and it was a little like they were playing a game of chicken, see who could make the other come first and Evan was a very competitive person so with his free hand he pulled Connor down for another dirty kiss, his fingers knotting in Connor’s hair and that did the trick and Connor was coming in Evan’s hand hard and it was enough to send Evan over the edge too, and he finished with a groan and while Connor kissed his neck.

When they were finished, Connor reached into the passenger seat glovebox and produced a handful of fast food napkins and they both took a moment to wipe up their mess and tuck themselves back into their pants and Evan started to giggle.

“What?”

The windows were all fogged up from their heavy breathing and body heat and Evan could not stop laughing. “I just mean… You were like, ‘oh I don’t want to smoke weed in my mom’s car’ and then this…”

Connor laughed too. He laughed hard and Evan could tell he was a little bit high because his laugh was a bit louder than usual and he rested his head briefly against Evan’s shoulder while he did it and Evan’s heart almost burst with how cute that was.

The pair of them rolled the windows down to air out the backseat and then Connor found a bottle of Febreeze in the back and sprayed it a few times, just in case the weed smell had followed them. Evan disposed of the napkins in the dumpster and he was sort of shocked to see that for the second night in a row, Connor had kept him awake past three.

“Shit,” Connor said. “I was going to drop you off but Zoe texted like twenty minutes ago.”

“Let’s go get her first then. Drop me on your way back home.”

“Yeah, okay.”

They made the short drive to whichever jazz band member was hosting Zoe and her friends and Connor called her to let her known he was outside. From the phone, Evan could hear her saying, “Took you long enough.”

A few minutes later she drunkenly stumbled out of the front door, blowing a kiss behind her as she did. She stumbled toward the backseat, throwing herself inside headfirst and announcing, “I’m drunk, bitches!”

Connor sighed and got up to tuck her feet into the car, buckle her in, and shut the door. Zoe fought him the whole time, saying she could do it, only to giggle when she tried. “Evan!” She said when she apparently noticed he was there. “Didn’t see you, you’re all… blurry. How’re you? Did you have a good turkey day?”

“I did,” Evan said, smiling a little. “How about you?”

In response, Zoe gave him a thumbs down and blew a raspberry. “Fucking… Larry. Our father,” She said, as if she was trying to adopt a more sophisticated tone, “Is an asshole.”

“True,” Connor said.

“He did not like it when Connor said he had a good lawyer but Iiiiiii did!”

Evan glanced over at Connor, confused, but then Zoe was loudly singing along to the Mika song that was playing, basically shouting, “Why don’t you like me?” and Connor was telling her to knock it off but in a good-natured kind of way, which only seemed to encourage her and Evan laughed because he really loved being around these two, really loved knowing them. It was so much better than high school, when he idealized Zoe and made her into his own personal manic pixie dream girl, when he was scared of Connor and bought all of the bullshit Jared had said about them. This was so much better.

Connor dropped him at his mom’s with a smile and a wave, and Evan let himself inside quietly. He headed up to his childhood bedroom and fell asleep fast, thankful that he had this night now, even if he couldn’t have had it in high school.


	10. December (Ten Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Latkes and weird goyish kissing weed.

“I’m sorry, you want me to do what?”

 

Gladys looks genuinely amused and Connor feels like she’s probably enjoying this. “I want you to plan the Christmas party.”

 

Connor blinks. “I have… no idea how to do that?” Gladys looks at him, with this slightly stern look, and he feels like she’s about to tell him off. “I mean, I can try?”

 

“You’ll do great,” she says, very matter-of-fact as usual. “After all, you’ll be doing it yourself this time next year.”

 

That is… not something he’s actually thought about, but now that Gladys mentions it, Connor realizes that she’s got a point. 

 

The Little Book Nook isn’t just a bookstore, it’s also a hub for the queer community, and Gladys and Martha throw functions there pretty often. There are open mics and fundraisers and all sorts of things that Connor’s actually going to have to know how to do by himself, eventually. 

 

He’d helped with the Halloween party planing and he’d organized some open mic poetry events, but planning a Christmas party…

 

He has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. 

 

“Do you have a spreadsheet or something?” Connor asks Gladys, feeling a little desperate. 

 

“Yes,” she says. 

 

“Can I look at it?”

 

Gladys grins. “If you get really lost, then sure. But I think you can figure this out.”

 

Once the work day is over and he’s sitting in his apartment, Connor is hit with the impression that Gladys has vastly overestimated his abilities. He’s about to start fucking Googling ‘how to throw a Christmas party when you actually don’t like parties’ when his phone lights up with a text. 

 

**You busy?**

 

It’s from Evan. He responds immediately. 

 

**Not at all. What’s up?**

 

The response is almost instantaneous.

 

**Not much.**

**I’m downstairs?**

**Thought we could grab a drink.**

 

Connor immediately heads down the stairs, disarms the alarm for the store and opens the front door to reveal Evan, standing outside looking a little embarrassed. He’s wearing a jacket, a nicer looking jacket than Connor remembers from last winter, which must be new, and it’s got a hood and it’s navy blue and it looks really, really good on him. 

 

“Sorry I didn’t, like, call or text first,” Evan says apologetically. Connor ushers him inside so he doesn’t have to stand out in the snow. He looks cold, colder than he should be, and Connor wonders for a moment how long he was standing out there before texting Connor, but doesn’t ask. 

 

“Everything okay?” Connor asks. 

 

Evan opens his mouth like he’s going to assure Connor everything’s okay, then closes it and visibly deflates. “Bad day,” he says, and it’s just before 10pm and Connor has the distinct impression that Evan’s come straight from work. 

 

“Okay,” says Connor, aiming for a casual tone. “Did you eat? I’ve got leftovers, you’re welcome to them.” 

 

He locks the front door, rearms the alarm and he and Evan head upstairs to his apartment which is very, very slowly starting to contain less boxes and more actual apartment things. There are still piles of boxes of books for the store in the corner in the living room, because the storeroom still isn’t organized enough to keep all of them in, but he and Leslie and Gladys are slowly working on it. 

 

“I haven’t eaten,” Evan admits, and Connor’s not surprised, so he goes to the fridge and pulls out a container of leftover tomato soup from earlier tonight and there’s still half a loaf of garlic bread in the oven so he turns the oven back on so it can heat through again. 

 

“Tomato soup and garlic bread,” Connor announces, and Evan rolls his eyes like he’s not surprised, but doesn’t complain, and Connor thinks that Evan’s secretly actually fond of the combination, he’s just committed to saying it’s weird. “Or if you really want, I can make you a grilled cheese to go with the soup. I think I have cheese.”

 

He opens the fridge again to find that he does not have cheese. 

 

“I lied. I’m sorry. No cheese.”

 

“I shouldn’t really do dairy anyway,” Evan points out, and Connor winces a little because he knows that, or at least he should know that, and he’s about to say something but Evan must have noticed how apologetic he looks and continues. “I eat way too much cheese for someone who’s lactose intolerant, I know, but… I really fucking like cheese.”

 

“What’s not to like about cheese?” Connor agrees, then writes the word ‘cheese’ the whiteboard on the fridge, underneath ‘linen closet light’ and ‘Fitzgerald’. He takes a moment and tries to remember why he wrote ‘Fitzgerald’, but decides that’s a problem for Future Connor. 

 

Evan’s sitting at the kitchen table, and he’s taken off his nice navy jacket and his scarf and he’s wearing a maroon tie that looks really nice on him and he starts loosening the tie and taking it off and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt and Connor catches a glimpse of Evan’s collarbone and really wants to kiss it, but that’s weird outside of sex and Connor doesn’t want to make things weird. 

 

“Did you come straight from work?” Connor asks, and Evan nods wearily. 

 

“Busy,” Evan says. “It was… really busy, and someone found a typo in one of my briefs and it was really fucking embarrassing and I just kind of kept thinking about it all day, even though there are so many fucking typos in everyone else’s briefs and it happens to everyone, and then I nearly fell over outside the coffee shop and it probably looked super weird so I didn’t actually get coffee because I was too embarrassed to go in, so I went back to the office and made instant in the kitchen, and it was so fucking bitter and Annalise from accounts was there and she said she’d read this thing about putting salt in your coffee so it wouldn’t be bitter? So she puts, like, a whole teaspoon of salt in my coffee and it was disgusting but I felt bad so I just… drank it anyway.”

 

“Oh my god,” Connor says, without meaning to. “Dude. Salt coffee sounds nasty.”

 

“It is so nasty.”

 

“I think I read something about the bitter thing, though,” Connor admits. “But it’s like, a pinch of salt, not a whole teaspoon.”

 

“That would make sense, yeah,” says Evan, and he really does sound tired and frustrated. He sighs. “It’s dumb. It’s all dumb, little stuff. It’s not like I… it’s not like it really matters in the long run, you know? I’m fine. It’s just a dumb, bad day.”

 

“Sometimes those happen,” Connor points out, pouring the soup into a saucepan and putting it on the stovetop, because even though he could just microwave it, he feels like heating it on the stovetop makes it nicer, and this is actually a pretty fucking badass soup, even if it is originally from a packet. “And you’re allowed to be annoyed about it.”

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, and he’s shrugging off his suit jacket and putting it on the back of the chair and walking over to where Connor’s standing by the stove top. His shirt is a creamy, off-white color and looks nice against his skin, skin that’s always a shade darker than Connor’s ridiculous paleness, even in the middle of winter. 

 

“Do you want to borrow a t-shirt or something?” Connor suggests. “White shirt plus tomato soup might end in disaster.”

 

Evan looks at him intently for a moment. 

 

Then starts unbuttoning his shirt, not breaking eye contact with Connor the entire time. 

 

Connor’s throat goes dry. 

 

“I don’t have to be wearing a shirt,” Evan says, his voice faux-innocent, and he’s still looking right at Connor, right through Connor, and Connor can’t look away, because Evan’s eyes are dark and challenging, and…

 

Connor turns off the stovetop, then the oven. “You don’t  _ have _ to be wearing anything.”

 

Evan smiles at him. “Oh, so your apartment is a nudist colony now. Good to know.”

 

“Shut up,” Connor says roughly, then pulls Evan in and kisses him, hard. Evan responds immediately, like he’s been waiting for Connor to kiss him the whole time he’s been here, and it might be the middle of winter and Connor might not have the warmest apartment in New York City but he’s definitely not cold, he’s hot, he’s burning up, and Evan’s hands are reaching underneath the bottom of his sweater and touching skin, and Connor is holding Evan’s face in his hands possessively, more possessively than he knows that he should be, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

 

They break apart for air and Evan’s eyes are dark and Evan reaches down and starts undoing Connor’s belt and then, honest to fuck, gets on his knees in the middle of Connor’s kitchen and honestly it’s so fucking hot that Connor thinks he might have a brain aneurysm. Evan looks up at him, smirking, then pulls down Connor’s pants and underwear, muttering something under his breath about how inconvenient skinny jeans are, then looks up at him again and bites his lip. 

 

“What do you want?” Evan says, his voice rough. “I want to hear you ask me.”

 

“You’re the one who got on your knees for me,” Connor shoots back, because he’s not one to shy away from a challenge. 

 

Evan raises an eyebrow and Connor reaches down and runs his fingers through Evan’s hair. Evan sighs contently for a moment, but stubbornly refuses to do anything but kneel there, lips inches away from Connor’s cock. 

 

“Blow me,” Connor says hurriedly, because he is not a patient man. 

 

Evan smirks. “You’re going to have to ask nicer than that.”

 

“Fucking hell, Evan, if you don’t put my cock in your mouth this second I’m going to-”

  
He completely loses his train of thought as Evan takes his length in his mouth, and Evan’s ridiculously good at this, and he’s using his fingernails to tease Connor’s inner thighs, and Connor has to brace himself against the counter with his free hand because Evan’s mouth on his cock is making him weak at the knees and is suddenly hit with the realization that Evan definitely decided to suck him off in the kitchen so he’d have to fight to keep his balance and that’s fucking sneaky and Connor should stop being surprised because despite looking wholesome and innocent, Evan Hansen is a fucking Slytherin who knows how to get what he wants. 

 

Connor lets out an embarrassingly loud moan, and tightens his grip on Evan’s hair, and Evan just keeps going for what feels like an agonizingly long time, until he all of a sudden pulls back and looks up at Connor and Connor feels like he’s about to dissolve, and then Evan’s on his feet and practically dragging Connor to the bedroom, and Connor’s genuinely still got his pants around his knees so he’s not exactly about to run a fucking marathon here, but Evan hasn’t given him time to do anything about it, so he’s kind of just stumbling into the room awkwardly. Evan all but throws Connor onto the bed and works off his skinny jeans and his underwear and Connor takes off his shirt and his sweater, all at once, and then he’s naked and Evan’s still in half-buttoned cream shirt and dress pants and fancy shoes, and there is something incredibly disarming but also incredibly sexy about the fact that Connor’s naked and Evan’s almost fully dressed. 

 

“What now?” Connor says, almost gasps. 

 

Evan smirks. “I have some ideas.”

 

“Do they involve you getting naked?” 

 

Evan laughs, and unbuttons the rest of his shirt, and pulls it off, and Connor can’t help it, he almost unconsciously reaches down and grabs his own cock, and Evan’s eyes light up at the sight of it. Connor grins, and starts stroking himself, and Evan’s watching him and undoing his belt and slowly, agonizingly slowly, taking off his belt, then his shoes, then his socks, then his pants, and he’s displaying incredible self-control and his eyes are on Connor the whole fucking time. 

 

Finally, fucking finally, Evan’s naked, and he stands there and looks at Connor for a long moment, a wicked smile on his face. “Like what you see?”

 

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

 

“Want to show me how much?”

 

Connor stands up and pulls Evan into a kiss, then turns him around and pushes him onto the bed. Evan gasps, then Connor starts kissing his neck and running his tongue along Evan’s collarbone, the collarbone he’d wanted to kiss from the minute he saw it tonight, and then he kisses his way down Evan’s body and takes Evan’s cock in his mouth, as deep as he can go, trying to see if he can make Evan lose control, because tonight it feels like a competition, like someone’s got to win, and Connor doesn’t think he’d mind losing to Evan but he’ll be damned if he’s not going to go down swinging. 

 

_ “Connor,” _ Evan says. Moans. It’s a strangled, heated sound and it honestly just fucking encourages him. Evan starts tugging at Connor’s hair and it sends a shock of pleasure right through him, but he’s not going to be distracted, he’s going to make Evan fucking come apart underneath him, he wants to make him feel good because he deserves it, he deserves it after a bad day and it’s not like this is exactly a hardship for him because the noises Evan’s making are just fucking delectable right now. 

 

Evan keeps saying his name, swearing and breathing heavily and moaning and Connor fucking loves him like this, loves hearing him get lost in how good he feels, loves knowing that Evan’s relaxing and letting go and that Connor’s the one making him feel this way. Evan’s saying his name, over and over and over, and the occasional “oh fuck” or “please” and then Evan’s coming with what’s almost a yell and Connor’s name is on his lips and Connor keeps Evan’s length in his mouth, swallowing him down, trying to make sure that Evan’s feeling every ounce of pleasure he deserves, because he just deserves so fucking much, he deserves to feel good, he deserves everything. 

 

“Holy shit,” says Evan, and he’s panting and breathless. Connor pulls away, licks his lips and grins up at Evan, who just looks… absolutely spent. He’s got his head on Connor’s pillow and he’s spread out on Connor’s bed, and there’s this flash of pride in Connor’s stomach, this fleeting thought of “mine”, that he pushes away because this isn’t like that, they’re best friends who have a lot of sex, and Connor just… wants to make his friend feel good after a bad day, that’s all. 

 

“You’re welcome,” says Connor with a smirk. He moves up toward Evan and kisses his neck, almost gently. Evan’s getting back his breath and he looks at Connor, and he just looks so completely blissed out, but Evan’s never been a selfish lover and before Connor knows it, Evan’s got his hand wrapped around Connor’s cock. Connor audibly gasps. “You don’t have to-”

 

“I want to,” Evan says, his eyes warm and open. “I want to make you feel good.”

 

“You did… pretty fucking well in the kitchen,” Connor manages to say, because Evan is very, very good with his hands, and Connor’s almost painfully turned on by now. 

 

“Mmmm,” says Evan, before kissing Connor’s neck. “I thought you liked that.”

 

“Yes,” Connor says breathlessly. 

 

“The good thing about you having your own place,” says Evan, almost casually, “is that we can fuck wherever we want.” He grins. “I can touch you like this wherever I want.”

 

Connor responds with a moan, and Evan kisses Connors neck again, then pulls at Connor’s hair with his other hand, and is still stroking his cock, and it doesn’t take long before Connor’s coming all over Evan’s hand and moaning his name and, like, possibly actually seeing stars for a moment because it is all just so fucking hot. 

 

Connor lies back on the bed next to Evan, making sure he’s giving Evan enough space because he doesn’t like cuddling, and turns his head to look at him. Evan’s smiling, and there is something soft and fond in his expression. “Thanks for the sex,” Connor says, and Evan’s smile widens.

 

“I should be thanking you.”

 

“High five?” Connor offers, and Evan laughs, and high fives him with the hand he didn’t just jerk Connor off with, which he appreciates. 

 

They lie there for a couple of moments, both trying to get their breath back. 

 

“If you want to have a shower,” Connor suggests, “I’ll reheat the soup and the garlic bread for you. 

 

Evan looks at him and there is just so much warmth and so much light in his eyes, and he’s smiling so wide and Connor kind of wants to say something but he’s not sure what he’d say, and feels like saying anything would ruin it, somehow. 

 

“Thank you,” Evan says, and he hasn’t stopped smiling, and he doesn’t stop smiling as Connor gives him a clean towel and a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, then he heads into the bathroom and Connor goes about getting dressed before heading into the kitchen. 

 

It doesn’t take too long before Connor’s got the garlic bread heated and the soup heated, because he knows that Evan takes short showers because he thinks long showers are wasteful, and he’s proved correct when Evan comes back to the kitchen not ten minutes later. 

 

He looks cute in Connor’s clothes. 

 

“Thank you so much,” says Evan as Connor puts a bowl of soup and a plate of garlic bread on the table. Connor, who has decided he’s definitely peckish, steals a piece of garlic bread and chews it thoroughly, then goes to the pantry and pulls out a packet of Oreos and grabs a knife from the drawer, then proceeds to remove the filling from each Oreo. 

 

“So what’s been going on with you?” Evan asks. 

 

“I have to plan a Christmas party,” says Connor before eating the filling off the knife and grabbing another Oreo to dissect. “Gladys has, like, a full-on list of how she’s done it in the past but she won’t give it to me because she wants me to have a go doing it on my own.”

 

“You can definitely do this,” Evan assures him, dunking some garlic bread in his soup. “You just need to break it down into chunks. Do you have pen and paper?”

 

“Yeah, says Connor, grabbing a pad and paper from a pile on the table. “So, like, I start with… what, the basics? Food and alcohol?”

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, nodding encouragingly. Connor writes that down on his piece of paper. “Honestly, event planning is just about figuring out why you’re throwing an event in the first place, who needs to be there and how you’re going to keep them entertained for however long it’s going on for.” Evan kind of rolls his eyes. “And you’ve got an easy one to start off with. It’s not like you’re trying to throw a fundraiser where the aim is to get money out of people. Trust me - a Christmas party at a bookstore is way more straightforward than, say, a gala ball to raise money for bus improvements where a bunch of high society women will complain if you serve them the wrong type of cheese.”

 

“Jesus,” Connor mutters. He’s glad he’s got a piece of paper, actually, it makes thinking this through a bit easier. “Okay. So. Gladys has a list of the people who are, like, always invited that she is going to let me have, and I can get some invites online. I know what day it is, it’s not going to be a long night or a late night because Gladys and Martha still own the place and they’re in their 70s, so I don’t have to entertain people too much.” He thinks back to last year’s party. “They had this guy come in last year who played Christmas carols on the accordion?” Evan makes a face, and Connor laughs. “There will be no accordion this year.”

 

“Ugh,” says Evan, rolling his eyes. “I just… Christmas carols are the worst.” 

 

“You’re Jewish,” Connor points out, taking another Oreo and scraping out the filling then eating it off the knife. “Of course you’re not into Christmas carols.” He looks at his piece of paper, then writes down ‘no Christmas carols’. “It should be, like, an inclusive thing anyway. It can be a holiday party. It doesn’t have to be a Christmas party. Gladys and Martha’s lawyer Mr. Nachman’s Jewish and they usually invite him, he might appreciate the shindig being not explicitly Christmas.”

 

“He’s a good guy,” says Evan with a smile. “Definitely has a better sense of humor than most other lawyers I know.” 

 

Connor writes down to make sure the invite says it’s a holiday party, then goes for another Oreo. “Okay,” he says as he scrapes out the filling. “So we’re not serving people dinner, just nibbles. That can’t be too hard. I’ll buy a bunch of alcohol and put together a bar or something. Look up some caterers. Easy.” He eats the filling off the knife and then smiles at Evan. “See? I can do this.”

 

“You can absolutely do this,” says Evan with a smile. 

 

“Thanks for letting me talk it through.”

 

“Not a problem,” says Evan, who’s now looking at the pile of unfilled Oreos on the kitchen table. “What the fuck are you doing with those Oreos?”

 

Connor shrugs. “I only really like the filling.”

 

Evan just stares at him. “What are you going to do with the cookies?”

 

Connor shrugs again. “Dunno. Usually I give them to Andi so she can make cheesecake base or truffles or whatever. Do you want them?”

 

Evan just stares at him. “Are you seriously telling me you buy Oreos just to eat the filling?”

 

Connor grins. He had a feeling this would annoy the fuck out of Evan. “Yup.”

 

“Why don’t you just buy a thing of vanilla frosting? It’s the same thing.”

 

“It’s absolutely not the same.”

 

“Oh my god, what the actual fuck.”

 

Connor grins. “I’m gonna get a bowl and scrape out the rest of the filling from the packet, then I’ll put all the cookies back in the packet and you can take them with you when you go, okay?” 

 

Evan shakes his head with dismay. “That is disgusting.” Then he sighs. “But the cookies are my favorite part.”

 

Connor laughs. “See? We’re a match made in heaven. I’ll eat the filling, you eat the cookies. It’s perfect.”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“Good thing we found each other,” Connor continues cheerfully, and something in Evan’s expression softens, and Connor realizes that even though he’s kind of teasing, he’s actually telling the truth. 

 

“Yeah,” says Evan softly. “I think it is.”

 

* * *

 

Evan needed Connor to stop saying things. He needed Connor to stop saying things because he knew Connor wasn’t saying these things to actually torture Evan but he was, in fact, torturing Evan. Because he was saying these things and Evan was just falling more and more in love with him and it was fucking Bad.

It was bad and he needed Connor to stop being charming and adorable and massacring Oreos in a way that made Evan’s heart do backflips. 

Fuck. 

Good thing they found each other?

Yeah. Great. Amazing. Evan would be dead without Connor, literally permanently dead… 

But. 

Fuck. 

Evan was reading too much into this. It was a joke, a silly teasing thing, but his heart felt heavy in his chest and it squeezed painfully when Connor looked at him and fuck. 

He just needed to get over this. 

He would get over this. He had to. Connor was too important to him to fuck things up with a weird stupid collection of squishy feelings. And besides, Evan was bad at being in love. He got too consumed by it, got overly involved or overcorrected and ended up being distant. 

Evan was going to fuck this up. 

He was definitely absolutely going to fuck this up. 

“What?” Connor said, eyes bright as he destroyed another Oreo. 

“Nothing,” Evan said because if he said it this whole thing would fall apart. He found himself thinking back to his confidence in February that the universe was punishing him by making him die only to come back again. Maybe this was just another prong of that. Maybe this was hell, more or less. Being in love with someone close enough to touch, to reach out to, but to be stopped by your own bullshit. 

 

* * *

 

It turns out that once Connor’s made himself a list of things to do, the whole party planning process is pretty damn straightforward. Evan’s advice of ‘breaking it all down into smaller bits’ is actually pretty helpful, and he’s soon got a list of tasks that he can check off and get done over the two weeks leading up to the party. 

 

Once Leslie finds out Connor’s in charge of the holiday party, she immediately offers to help, and Connor takes her up on it and gives her the task of decorating. 

 

“I don’t really know how to decorate anything,” he says with a shrug. “Nor do I really have any kind of… aesthetic thoughts or whatever. I just don’t want it to look too… Christmassy? Like, more of a winter holiday vibe, because Christmas can get kinda tacky.”

 

“I’m with you,” says Leslie with a nod. “I get what you mean and I have some ideas. This will be really cool!”

 

Garrett, on the other hand, just wants to remind Connor to get plenty of alcohol, over and over again. “No one wants to go to a fucking Christmas party sober,” he says, rolling his eyes in a way that makes Connor kind of want to slap him. 

 

It’s probably just as well that Connor doesn’t work every day. Garrett usually does weekend shifts but they do have a few short shifts during the week together, which Connor usually ends up using as an opportunity to get some bookwork done, leaving Garrett alone on the shop floor unless it’s really busy. He doesn’t love Garrett’s attitude toward him, but Garrett is always friendly and polite to the customers, which Connor thinks is far more important, and honestly Connor has bigger fish to fry.

 

He does ask Leslie whether she has any issues working with him, and Leslie, rather reluctantly, says that he does tend to complain. About everything. “He just, uh, doesn’t really like being managed?” she says, a little diplomatically. “He used to complain about Gladys all the time, but now he, uh….”

 

“Complains about me,” Connor says with a nod. “I’ve noticed.” 

 

“He doesn’t do it around customers,” Leslie assures him. “If, uh, if that helps.”

 

“It does,” says Connor with a shrug. “I mean… I get that it’s a weird situation. He didn’t choose to be working for me and I didn’t hire him, so it’s bound to be weird, and as long as he’s pulling his weight and being nice to the customers, I can take being disliked.”

 

When push comes to shove, Connor doesn’t really give a fuck if Garrett likes him. 

 

The day of the party arrives and they decide close at 5 to get ready for a 6pm party. The caterers arrive just after 4, and Connor puts everything that needs to stay warm into his oven upstairs until it’s time to set up for the party. 

 

Once they’ve got the ‘closed for private function’ sign on the door, Connor sets about organizing the drinks table and bringing the booze he’d purchased from Andre’s liquor store down. Despite thinking eggnog tastes like snot, he’s made some, and he’s got a bucket full of ice where he’s storing some champagne, and there’s a wide assortment of alcohol and mixers and a slow cooker full of mulled wine, as well as tons of beer and tons of wine and some not horrendously expensive but still nice spirits, and honestly it’s looking like a pretty good spread. 

 

When he comes down with the hot food, he spots Leslie is hanging up mistletoe by the foreign language section. Connor kind of wants to tell her to take it down, but he doesn’t, because Leslie is doing a far better job decorating than Connor would have by himself.

 

The whole place is lit up with strings and strings of fairy lights, and when the main lights of the bookstore are turned off, it’s honestly kind of fucking magic. Once everything’s organized, Connor and Leslie take a moment to look around and make sure everything’s ready. 

 

The food is set out, the drinks table is ready, and they’ve moved the shelves around so there’s space. There are chairs out so people can sit and there’s a table set up with a pile of books, individually wrapped in silver paper, so everyone can take one home at the end of the night. Connor had a great time picking out books for holiday gifts, actually. It was probably the most fun part of the whole party planning process. 

 

He’s hooked up his iPhone to the store’s sound system, which he honestly has never paid much attention to because they don’t use it terribly often, and the sound of Sufjan Stevens’ Christmas album is softly ringing through the store, which is honestly the only Christmas album Connor can almost stand. 

 

It’s not going to be a wild rager of a party, but it’ll be a nice, lowkey kind of gathering that Connor can get behind, and he’s pretty happy with how it’s turned out. Honestly, it all looks great. 

 

He’s just going to have to avoid the foreign language section, because he doesn’t do mistletoe. 

 

“Is Evan coming?” Leslie asks, and her tone sounds deliberately casual and Connor is immediately a little on edge. 

 

“He is,” Connor confirms. “He gave me a hand planning the whole thing, so…”

 

“Right,” says Leslie, nodding. She tilts her head. “How long have you guys been together again?” 

 

Connor turns to Leslie quickly, a little taken aback. “We’re not together. We’re just friends.”

 

“Friends?” Leslie asks, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“Just friends,” Connor says firmly. “I mean, he’s my best friend, but he’s not my boyfriend.”

 

“Okay,” says Leslie, and she almost looks… pleased. She picks up the step ladder that’s still out and folds it. “So what’s Evan’s deal? Straight, gay, bi, other?”

 

“He’s bi,” Connor says, because it isn’t a secret, Evan is very openly bisexual. 

 

Leslie’s eyes light up a little. “Great. Okay.”

 

Connor tries to tamp down this weird, annoying feeling in his stomach. “Do you have a crush on Evan?” he asks. Leslie goes a little pink, then puts the step ladder in the storage room and doesn’t answer his question. Connor, despite himself, follows her into the storage room. “Leslie. Do you have a crush on Evan?”

 

“Ugh, that’s so high school,” Leslie grumbles. “I think he’s hot, sure. And he’s sweet and he’s smart and he puts up with  _ you, _ so he’s got to have the patience of a saint.”

 

Connor puts his hand to his chest in mock offense. “Wow, rude.”

 

Leslie goes even pinker. “Sorry,” she replies immediately. “That was super rude. You’re, like, my boss now.”

 

“Eh, you’re not wrong,” says Connor, still trying to ignore the weird feeling in his stomach. “And yeah, Evan’s a really good guy.”

 

“Is he single?”

 

Connor bites his lip. “Yes,” he says reluctantly. “I don’t know if he’s… looking for anything particularly serious at the moment, though.” 

 

Leslie blushes again, then smoothes down her dress and tucks her hair behind her ear. Connor, who hasn’t actually really ever thought about it, has to admit that Leslie is kind of cute. She looks nice today in a dark green dress and blonde curls pulled back off her face. She’s short and curvy and soft, which reminds Connor a little of Sabrina, so it’s entirely possible that she’s Evan’s type, but it’s not a question Connor has ever actually asked Evan and it’s kind of weird to think of. 

 

“I mean, I just broke up with my girlfriend last month,” Leslie says with a shrug. “I don’t know if I’m looking for anything serious, either.”

 

“Well alright,” says Connor, hoping that’ll put an end to the conversation. The bell rings, and he heads out into the store to see that Gladys and Martha are arriving, and that Evan seems to have arrived at the same time and is helping Martha into the store. 

 

“Nearly took a tumble out there,” Martha says, more cheerful than Connor thinks she should be given the subject matter. “But this young gentleman helped me inside, isn’t that lovely of him? Connor, is he yours?”

 

Evan’s eyes widen and Connor tries not to laugh. “He’s my friend,” Connor explains. “Also kind of my attorney, so…”

 

“A lawyer!” Martha says, looking at Evan with a mischievous smirk. “You look far too wholesome to be a lawyer.”

 

“He’s in environmental law,” says Leslie from behind Connor. She waves. “Hey, Evan.”

 

“Leslie, hi,” says Evan, looking grateful for the distraction. At least, that’s what Connor thinks. Maybe Evan’s just glad to see Leslie. 

 

Connor wracks his brain, trying to think of a time where Evan’s talked about Leslie and come up blank. Evan hasn’t really talked about Leslie, but he always says hello to Leslie and smiles at her, and he kept reminding Connor of Leslie’s name when he for some reason had a hard time keeping it in his head when he first went full time at the store and they started having more shifts together, 

 

Maybe Evan does like Leslie. They’re talking about something now, and a part of Connor wants to interrupt but that would be super rude so instead, he focuses on Gladys and Martha, who are looking around the bookstore with approval.

 

“Oh, it looks beautiful in here, Connor,” says Martha happily. “I love the lights.”

 

“It’s different,” Gladys says matter-of-factly, “but I like it.”

 

“Leslie helped with the decorations,” Connor feels like he should point out. “I just said I wanted to make sure it wasn’t… you know, overdone.”

 

“Very classy,” says Martha approvingly. “Oh, this is lovely.” She starts walking over to where the food is. “And this all looks wonderful. You’ve done a lovely job, dear.”

 

Gladys is looking at Connor with a smile. “I told you you could do it,” she says, almost smug, then goes to follow her wife. 

 

The room starts to fill with people. There are suppliers and some trusted customers and stakeholders and it’s not a huge group of people but Connor makes sure that everyone’s got a drink and some food and ends up in some conversations about various things and the music is soft and nice and there are a lot of ugly Christmas sweaters. 

 

In the corner near the travel section, Evan is wearing a blue sweater with a menorah on it and Connor grins. Of course he is. 

 

He’s also talking to Garrett, who is very obviously flirting with him. Garrett’s openly ogling Evan, who Connor has to admit looks ridiculously good in those jeans, and Evan’s responding politely and either doesn’t know Garrett’s flirting with him or is just in full on “professional dealing with strangers” mode. Connor thinks to himself that while Leslie might be Evan’s type, Garrett is an asshole and Evan deserves better, so he heads over. 

 

Evan catches his eye and looks pleased to see him as he approaches. Connor makes sure to greet Garrett first. “Garrett, good you could make it,” he says, trying for a friendly tone. “I thought you said Ashton was coming?”

 

“We had a clash,” Garrett says, and he doesn’t sound even slightly ashamed at the mention of his boyfriend of eight years, who Connor has met twice. “He’s got a work function tonight as well.”

 

“That’s a shame,” says Connor. He turns to Evan and smiles. “How’s it going? Not too Christmassy for you?”

 

“What?” says Garrett, apparently not aware that Connor’s not actually talking to him. “Why would a Christmas party be too Christmassy?”

 

“I’m Jewish,” Evan says politely. 

 

“Really?” Garrett says, looking a little confused. 

 

“He’s wearing a menorah on his sweater,” Connor says, trying not to sound as irritated as he feels. The sweater in question says “Let’s Get Lit”, which Connor thinks is actually fucking adorable. 

 

“Right,” says Garrett. “I’m going to go get another drink. Nice talking to you, Ethan.”

 

Before Connor can correct him, Garrett’s at the drinks table. Connor, who has not yet had a drink, is kind of glad that he’s stone-cold sober because honestly, if he’d been even slightly tipsy he might have punched him. 

 

“Oh my god,” Connor says apologetically once Garrett’s out of earshot. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

 

“Not your fault,” Evan says with a roll of his eyes. “No offence, but…”

 

“That guy’s an asshole? Yeah. I know.” He sighs. “And I’m his boss, so that’s fun.”

 

Evan smiles sympathetically, then gestures to the room. “The place looks great,” he says, his smile shifting to something far more sunny. “I like that it’s not, like, completely full of tacky Christmas decorations.”

 

“Exactly,” says Connor firmly. “That was the point. Thank you.”

 

“And that the invites said it was a holiday party,” Evan continues with a smile. “Also… there are latkes? That’s cool.”

 

“Yeah, I found a caterer who’d make some,” Connor says, like it’s no big deal, even though he genuinely called about four caterers before he found one. “Did you try them? I thought they were good, but I’ve never had them before, so I wouldn’t know if they’re wrong or whatever.”

 

“They’re great,” Evan says, his tone fond. “My mom and I are kind of… bad at Hanukkah? She was always working so much when I was a kid, so we weren’t great at actually taking the time, and she never quite got the hang of making latkes when she was younger and I’m really bad at making them, so we didn’t eat a lot.” Evan nods, like he’s remembering. “Mrs. Kleinman made us latkes sometimes. I think she felt sorry for us.”

 

Connor assumes that Evan’s talking about Jared Kleinman’s mom, but doesn’t really want to think about Jared Kleinman because he’s an asshole, so changes the subject. “Make sure you take one of the wrapped books before you go,” he tells Evan. “It’s a holiday gift, not a Christmas present, so you’re allowed.”

 

Evan grins. “Thanks, I will. Are they all the same?”

 

Connor shakes his head. “All different. Different genres, different feels… but they’re all, like… uplifting or some shit.” He feels his ears start to turn a little pink and kind of shrugs. “I don’t know, mostly I just made sure that I didn’t pick anything that was too fucking depressing, you know? Holidays and all.” 

 

“Makes sense,” says Evan with a nod. 

 

Gladys comes over and asks Connor to come with her to talk with Mr. Markowitz, who runs the store next door, and Connor excuses himself and braces himself for some shop talk. Mr. Markowitz is a solidly built, tall man who runs a hardware store that barely seems to have any customers and from the looks of things, doesn’t think much of Connor. He’s asking questions about Connor’s background and experience and Connor’s a little pissed because it’s none of this guy’s fucking business, but Gladys is interrupting to go to bat for him at every awkward question and this guy is clearly just here for free drinks anyway, and eventually decides he’s going home and wishes them Merry Christmas, obnoxiously loudly, and doesn’t take a book. 

 

Once he’s gone, Gladys turns to Connor and looks a little apologetic. “He’s a homophobic ass of a man,” she says frankly. “But he owns the store next door and Martha’s spent a lot of time making sure we have a good enough relationship with him that he doesn’t cause any trouble. We always invite him to the Christmas party, but next year you don’t have to.”

 

“Alright,” says Connor, not sure what Gladys is getting at. 

 

Gladys pats him on the arm. “I just wanted to make sure you recognized him and he recognized you, since you’re neighbors now.”

 

“Does he live above his store?” Connor asks. 

 

Gladys snorts. “Only when his wife decides she doesn’t want him in the house. Which is about once every two months.” 

 

“Great,” says Connor dryly.

 

“It’s not all rainbows, unfortunately,” Gladys says mildly. “The whole running a business thing. Martha’s always been the type of want to kill them with kindness, but I lean more toward being polite enough that they can’t fault you and keeping to myself.”

 

Connor thinks that sounds like an excellent plan. 

 

Gladys pats him on the shoulder and tells him to enjoy himself, and Connor finally makes his way over to the drinks table. He looks over to the foreign language section to see that Evan and Leslie are talking. 

 

Then Leslie stops and gestures above them and Evan turns bright red. 

 

So does Connor, probably. His face feels hot and his stomach feels weird. 

 

He feels even weirder when Evan kisses Leslie under the mistletoe. 

 

“Ugh,” says Gladys loudly from behind Connor. “What’s all this heterosexual nonsense in my nice gay bookstore?”

 

“I’m bisexual,” Leslie and Evan both say in unison, and then they look at each other and laugh a little, and for a moment, Connor thinks they’re going to kiss again and so decides he might get some food so he doesn’t have to watch. 

 

He eats some kind of weird salmon puff thing and thinks that Evan’s allowed to kiss Leslie, Evan’s allowed to do whatever he wants with Leslie, and Connor knows Leslie and knows that she’s a good person. She’s intelligent and creative and kind and sweet and Evan could do a lot worse, and she’s way less of an asshole than Connor is. Not that Connor and Evan are… not that it’s like that for them, they’re friends, they’re just friends. 

 

Connor gets another drink, then is approached by Caroline, the store’s foreign language supplier, who tells Connor a bit about her recent trip to Europe, and Connor very determinedly tries not to look around the room to see if Evan and Leslie have decided to go off and get better acquainted. 

 

If it’s what Evan wants then Connor’s not going to stand in his way, because that would be a dick move and he’s trying to be less of an asshole. 

 

* * *

 

Evan was pretty certain that the universe had it out for him. Like the whole dying a lot thing had made him pretty sure that he was not the universe’s favorite person, but now this whole Leslie-situation was kind of the cherry on top of a very The Universe Hates Evan Hansen In Particular year. 

Like. Okay. 

Leslie was cute, sure. And she liked him, alright. He could have handled that. People got weird crushes on him sometimes, and it was probably because he looked like an overgrown boy scout, and it happened and normally the whole thing ended very quickly after the person realized Evan was actually a sweaty, stuttering mess. 

But then some fucking idiot had to go around hanging some weird goyish kissing weed and now Evan had gone and kissed someone else in front of Connor. 

Like, come on universe! He couldn’t get thrown one single bone here?

Fuck. 

He had just kissed Leslie in front of Connor. 

FUCK. 

The way to a man’s heart was through making out with another person, right? 

Fuck. For fuck’s sake. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. 

Evan needed to get it together and get a drink, in that order. 

“I like your sweater,” Leslie said after an awkward pause that followed the pair of them kissing and then annoucing their bisexuality to the entire room. 

“Cool, thanks, I just… I need to go over there now, thanks,” Evan said, looking spectacularly stupid tripping all over his words as he rushed to get away from Leslie and the goddamn motherfucking mistletoe and toward the alcohol. 

“Smooth moves,” Zoe said from beside him. She was pouring herself a cup of eggnog. 

“Everyone saw that, huh?” Evan groaned. 

“Yep,” Zoe said, and her smile had kind of twisted. “You know, usually Connor’s acquaintances all want to get with  _ me _ .”

“I’m sure you could convince Leslie if you’re interested. Seeing as we all just learned she’s bisexual.”

“How could I ever compete with the menorah sweater though?”

Evan poured himself a drink, shaking his head. “I don’t get it. What is it about the sweater? I’ve had it for like four years, and without fail I always get unwanted attention from someone.”

“Lets people know you’re circumcised?” 

Evan choked on his drink. 

“Fuck, sorry, that was drunk of me to say,” She said, laughing a little. “Hi, I’m Zoe and this is my second holiday party today.” 

“Oh no.”

“Ohhhh yeah. Mulled wine earlier. Bad call.” She looked down at her eggnog. “Or great call. To be determined.”

Evan tried hard not to laugh at her expense. Zoe Murphy was like the most composed person he knew, so seeing her a little bit drunk was actually sort of… hilarious. Cute even. She took a sip of her eggnog and wrinkled her nose. “Oh very bad call. That tastes like snot.”

“Maybe you should drink some water?” Evan suggested. 

“Or maybe I should drink some tequila.” She reached for the bottle. “Or does that just scream ‘daddy issues?’”

“You’re the therapist,” Evan said, unsure. “You tell me.”

“Well, if I have to ask…” She said, pouring some tequila into a glass. “I’m having a festive margarita.” She started pouring varying amounts of alcohol and sour and ice into her glass.

“What makes it festive?”

“Great question,” She said, looking around at the makeshift bar. “Cranberry juice?” 

“Works for me.”

Zoe took a sip of her “festive margarita,” then paused, like she was considering whether she actually liked it or not. She took a second sip, nodded to herself, then said, “So, when are you going to get your shit together and tell Connor you’re in love with him?”

Evan felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, like he had been shoved to the ground and forgot how to breathe, like that time in high school when his gym teacher didn’t buy that he was sick and he was so lightheaded and out of it that he managed to get tackled to the ground during a flag football game. “Wha-? No! I mean. I’m  _ not _ . Why-why would you-?”

“Just in my experience, kissing other people to make the person you like jealous never actually works out. You think they’re all consumed with desire and whatever, and turns out they just think you don’t like them.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Evan said. 

“You know, he keeps saying the same thing,” Zoe said, shaking her head. “Idiots. Both of you are fucking morons.” She stopped. “But I mean that in a nice way.”

“Is there a nice way to mean that?” Evan asked. 

“I don’t know. Did you see that there’s latkes?”

“Yeah, I did.” Evan said. “Do you want some? I could bring you some?”

“I don’t like Christmas,” Zoe said, as if he hadn’t asked her about the latkes. “Is 

Hanukkah better?”

“I wouldn’t know how to compare them.”

“I feel weird,” Zoe said suddenly. “Like. Connor keeps inviting me places and I keep 

showing up to them but… I dunno, I sort of keep thinking that he’s pulling an elabo…  Wait hang on, I can say this, I have a PhD. Elaborate. An elaborate prank.” 

“Dude, you’re really drunk,” Evan said. 

“Dude. I know.” She took another sip of her drink. “I am having a hard time accepting that apparently I have a relationship with my brother now, and I’ve attended two holiday parties, so I am drunk.”

“Is having a relationship with Connor a bad thing?” Evan asked. 

“No. Fuck no, it’s… Unexpectedly a good thing.” She pointed a finger at him. “But it’s probably your fault.”

“My fault?”

“Yeah, he started hanging out with you and now he’s... Managing a store and back in therapy and talking to me. It’s weird.” She sighed. “It’s like you… turned off his Peter Pan Syndrome or something.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Evan said because now was probably not the appropriate moment to explain how he had actually said some pretty horrible things to Connor regarding his lack of drive and bad relationship with his family and then also they died. “This was all him.”

“Maybe you’re a good influence,” Zoe said. “Or he’s trying to impress you.”

“Stupid reason to change your whole life,” Evan pointed out. 

“Nobody here is making a case for Connor being smart,” She said, rolling her eyes. “Oh my god, fuck, is that Andi?”

Evan did not see Andi. He wasn’t even sure she was going to be there that night. “I don’t… think so. Why?”

“I just.” Zoe’s face was a little pink. “It’s not important. The important thing is that if you don’t see her, she can’t see me.”

“...Right.”

“You better go,” Zoe said. 

“What?”

“Incoming,” Zoe said and Evan spotted Leslie sort of lingering nearby, pretending she was having a look at the travel section. “Right well, I’m about to defuse this bomb for you.”

“I’m not following.”

“Go! Thank me later!” Zoe said, and then she turned around wearing a big, giant smile and said, “Leslie, oh my god, you look spectacular!” And Leslie went bright red and Zoe jerked her head so Evan knew it was time to get the fuck away while he still had a chance. 

He managed to cross the bookstore without incident, finding Connor fussing with the music playing from his phone. “You sister’s my hero,” Evan announced. “I need to get her a massive Christmas gift.”

“Why?” Connor said, eyebrows knitting together. 

“She uh. Saved me from Leslie who was sort of…hovering? Not in a creepy or anything, I just…” He shrugged. “Were you the one who approved the mistletoe?”

“No,” Connor said. “That was her idea.”

“Shit,” Evan said, frowning. “I don’t want to be rude to her, because she seems nice and all, but I’m not interested.”

Connor’s shoulders seemed to relax a bit. “You’re not?”

“I’m really not,” Evan said. He had to be extremely careful about the next words he  said, because he didn’t want it to come across wrong or weird. “I. Just…. I mean she works for you that would be really weird?”

...That was not what Evan meant to say. 

“I don’t think it would be weird,” Connor said and his tone was cool, almost cold. “I mean. Go for it if that’s what you want.”

“But that’s… That is not what I’m saying,” Evan said and fuck fuck fuck he had said precisely the wrong thing. “I’m just. I’m not interested in Leslie. That’s what I’m saying.”

“Oh,” Connor said. “Right.”

“Yeah,” Evan said, kind of thinking that right now would have been a super convenient time for a death-reset. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, that was… weird.”

“Was it?” Connor said with a shrug and yes, it was absolutely weird, Evan could practically feel it rolling off them both in waves. 

Fuck. 

 

* * *

 

They stand there awkwardly for way longer than Connor’s comfortable with, Connor feeling like an absolute idiot. It’s none of his fucking business if Evan kisses Leslie. It’s none of his fucking business if Evan wants to date Leslie. 

 

He did say he wasn’t interested though, which Connor’s not sure if he really believes, because Evan might be trying to spare his feelings, but…

 

“Connor! Evan! Lovely to see you two.”

 

Connor’s snapped out of his weird thoughts by the sight of Mr. Nachman, Gladys and Martha’s lawyer, heading toward them. “Good to see you, Mr. Nachman,” Connor says, shaking his hand. 

 

“You can call me Levi when I’m off the clock,” he says with a grin. “Now, Gladys tells me you’re the one responsible for tonight’s shindig.”

 

“She threw me in the deep end a little,” Connor admits with the best smile he can muster, “but I did my best.”

 

Mr. Nachman smiles widely. “I just wanted to thank you for the latkes,” he says, his tone sincere. “And the other kosher snacks and the fact that this gathering wasn’t quite as… aggressively gentile as some events around this time of year can be.”

 

Connor can hear Evan barely repressing a laugh beside him and can’t help but smile. He turns to Mr. Nachman. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he says.

 

“How do the two of you navigate holidays, if you don’t mind me asking?” says Mr. Nachman, his tone polite but curious. “My husband is Jewish as well, so there weren’t any issues there, but I imagine it could get a little tricky with family expectations and everything. Connor, I remember you said that your family is Catholic.”

 

Evan’s eyes are wide. “We’re not together,” he says, his tone blunt and to the point. “So there’s no navigation.”

 

Mr. Nachman’s eyes widen in surprise, then he looks between the two of them and goes a little pink. “My apologies,” he says, sounding horribly embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to assume, I-”

 

“We’re friends,” Connor says, trying to make this poor man feel a little better. “Best friends. But we’re not in any kind of romantic relationship.” He tries to make a joke. “Evan’s out of my league, obviously.” 

 

“That’s not…” Evan begins, then trails off, and turns back to Mr. Nachman. “Speaking of latkes, shall we get some?”

 

“There are more upstairs,” Connor offers. “I kept them warm in the oven. Should I bring them down?”

 

“I won’t say no to warm latkes,” says Mr. Nachman, who seems to be grateful that the subject has been changed. Connor nods, then smiles at both of them and heads through the sales floor toward his apartment, where’s he’s very rudely stopped by Garrett. 

 

“You ran out of ice,” Garrett says bluntly. “You should get some more.”

 

“Noted,” says Connor, trying not to snap at the guy, and makes a mental note to get another bag of ice out of his freezer while he’s getting the latkes. He heads up to his apartment and takes a moment to collect himself. 

 

Hosting a party is exhausting, he decides. 

 

He has a couple of glasses of water, then helps himself to a latke before he takes the warm plate downstairs. Then he pulls a bag of ice out of the freezer and heads downstairs with the ice in one hand and the latkes in the other. He drops the latkes off first, smiles at Mr. Nachman and Evan, then heads over to the drinks table and puts more ice in the ice bucket and watches his sister drunkenly try to open a bottle of champagne. 

 

“Let me,” he says, taking it off her and opening it carefully. The cork pops and he manages to pour a few glasses instead of just letting the bubbles explode all over the floor. Zoe’s eyes widen and she grins. 

 

“You are a champagne wizard,” she says with awe in her tone. “A wizard of champagne.”

 

He hands her a glass, then picks up one of his own and clinks their glasses together. “Happy holidays,” he says with a smile. 

 

“Thank you for inviting me,” Zoe replies with a smile of her own. “I like the alcohol and also the latkes.”

 

“You’re drunk.”

 

“You’re observant.” Zoe’s smile grows wider and she gestures to where Evan is having a conversation with Mr. Nachman. “Evan looks nice tonight.”

 

“He does,” Connor agrees, only to realize that it’s a trap. 

 

“Aha!” says Zoe gleefully. “So you admit it!”

 

“Admit that he looks nice?” Connor says with a roll of his eyes. “Sure. Obviously. I like his sweater.”

 

“I guess you’re, like, biblically aware that he’s circumcised,” says Zoe, before downing her flute of champagne. 

 

Connor’s eyes widen. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

 

“Guess you don’t hear that in bed much,” Zoe says conversationally, “considering that Evan’s Jewish.”

 

“Oh my god, you are so drunk right now.”

 

“I just don’t understand,” Zoe says, and she’s obviously drunk but she’s looking at Connor, frowning a little. “I don’t understand why you aren’t just… together. You love him, he loves you, you make each other so much better. You should just… let yourselves be happy, oh my god.”

 

“Zo,” Connor says, as patiently as we can, “we’re just friends. Best friends. But that’s it.”

 

Zoe snorts. “Aside from all the fucking.”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“Just… you both need to get your shit together,” she says, clumsily pouring herself another glass of champagne. Or at least attempting to. Connor ends up helping her pour, and then she lifts the glass in his direction and leans her head on his shoulder. 

 

Connor wraps his arm around her shoulder and lets her kind of snuggle up for a moment and it’s actually kind of nice, even though this level of affection would be out of the question for sober Zoe. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says. “I like that we see each other more now.”

 

“Sap,” says Zoe, her voice fond. “You know I love you and want you to be happy, right?”

 

“Right back at you, kiddo.”

 

“Kiddo? I’m like, a year younger than you, what the fuck.” Zoe hiccups, then continues. “I have a PhD. So that’s  _ Doctor _ kiddo to you.”

 

Connor laughs and resolves to find something for his hilariously drunk sister to eat to soak up all the alcohol. The snack table isn’t quite bare but there’s definitely less food than there was, so he leads Zoe toward Mr. Nachman, Evan and the latkes.

 

“Okay Zo, latke time,” he announces, and Evan’s offering Zoe the plate of latkes immediately, almost like he’d been ready the whole time. His cheeks are a little pink, Connor notices, like he’s been out in the cold, or has had a couple of drinks. Or like they’ve just had sweaty, energetic sex, which is not a thought he should be having around his sister and his boss’s lawyer.

 

“Mr. Nachman was telling me his mother’s latke secrets,” Evan says, his tone overly cheerful. 

 

“Is Hanukkah better than Christmas?” Zoe asks Mr. Nachman, through a mouthful of latke. “There’s fried potato. It must be.”

 

“This is Connor’s sister,” Evan says to Mr. Nachman. 

 

“I’m not usually this drunk,” Zoe says matter-of-factly. “Happy holidays!”

 

Connor catches Evan’s eye and grins at him, and Evan smiles for the briefest of moments, then announces he’s going to get Zoe some water, leaving Connor feeling a little… weird. 

 

“I’d better say goodnight to Martha and Gladys,” Mr. Nachman says apologetically. “Thank you so much for the lovely party.”

 

“You’re welcome,” says Connor, shaking his hand then watching him go. The room is starting to thin out, he realizes, so people are clearly ready to brave the cold and go home. 

 

Zoe waves a latke in Connor’s face. “We should eat these all the time,” she announces. “Also, you and Evan are fucking idiots.”

 

Connor’s not sure her exact reasoning for this conclusion but doesn’t say anything, because Zoe is usually right. 

 

* * *

 

“Evan’s out of my league, obviously.” 

“That’s not…” Evan said, feeling his heart rate increasing suddenly, blood flooding his cheeks. He. What. he wasn’t. He. 

What. 

Evan had to get out of this conversation, stat. Abort mission, flee the scene, anything. He cast his eyes around frantically, spotting Leslie eating and remembering that there were latkes and considering the rest of his brain had totally derailed he pulled out the only thing he could think of. Latkes.  “Speaking of latkes, shall we get some?”

Connor disappeared to get them latkes because he was a good host and Evan’s brain was exploding and Mr. Nachman was saying something about his mother and her recipe and blah blah blah did Evan’s mom make them? He shook his head, explaining that his mom worked a lot and wasn’t exactly much of a chef but if Levi had any tips he would take them?

And Mr. Nachman looked delighted to discuss this and Evan. 

Was not listening. 

Because Connor thought Evan was out of his league. 

_ Connor thought Evan was out of his league.  _

What? Just. 

What.

Connor was like… supermodel gorgeous. And brilliant, and driven, and passionate. And kind. And snarky and well dressed and kind of lowkey intellectual. Like he was kind of the most amazing person in the whole fucking world and his flaws were negligible, like he ate Oreos wrong, like that was like saying Danny Devito was out of Tom Hiddleston’s league like what the fuck. 

Connor had it all fucking backward.

It was rude and extremely unprofessional to be standing and talking to Mr. Nachman who was very nice about his mom’s latke secrets and not bother listening to a word he was fucking saying because Connor had said Evan was out of his league and. 

What the fuck did that even mean?

Evan wasn’t in a league, he was the kid you picked last in gym class because he had bad coordination and cried all the time, he wasn’t out of anyone’s league, he. 

Fuck. 

Evan blinked, trying hard to formulate a response, something appropriate and latke related when Mr. Nachman cleared his throat and said, “I really do apologize for earlier. I shouldn’t have assumed you and Connor were an item.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Evan said and he looked over his shoulder to make sure Connor wasn’t in earshot. “It happens all the time, we’re used to it. There’s definitely worse things to be mistaken for, you know?”

Mr. Nachman nodded. “I just feel… well it makes me feel a bit like I’m old, honestly. The sort of person who sees two queer people together and just assumes they’re dating because being with someone romantically is obviously the most important thing. I might as well have asked when you crazy kids were going to settle down and have a baby.” He looked down at the drink in his hand, smirking. “I’ve realized I’ve described my mother.”

“Oh no,” Evan said. “That’s unfortunate.”

“I suppose it happens to the best of us,” Mr. Nachman said, smiling. 

Connor returned a moment, handing off a plate of latkes and saying something about ice before he disappeared into the crowd. Evan watched him go, distracted, thinking it was absolutely ridiculous that he would think Evan was somehow out of his league when Connor was the one who was unattainable in every way. 

They talked a little shop after that, discussing the progress being made to get Connor officially and legally made the owner of The Little Book Nook by next summer. “We’re honestly ahead of schedule,” Mr. Nachman said. “You’re very thorough.”

Evan smiled. “I try to be. Sorry -”

“Don’t be sorry,” Mr. Nachman said, and he was smiling very widely. “It’s a compliment. I wish I had been have as dedicated when I was your age.”

Evan smiled a little bigger, a little harder, because it was a nice thing to hear from an actual, real-life established lawyer who he was working with that he wasn’t fucking everything up. “Thank you,” Evan said after a moment. 

Mr. Nachman grinned at Evan. “You’re a bright kid. I think you’re going to go places with that brain of yours.”

“That’s, uh, that’s so kind of you to say. Thanks. Really. Thank you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Evan noticed Connor had navigated around the table to help Zoe with a bottle of champagne and it was funny, Evan thought, to see the two of them standing there with their identical half smiles and think that they hadn’t been close or even really talking at this time last year. Evan was glad he had Zoe back in his life. He was happy because he really liked seeing Connor happy. 

“At the risk of sounding like my mother again,” Mr. Nachman said, smiling a little. “You could just tell him you like him.”

“I - What?” Evan said, his face heating up, feeling very caught. “No, I… That’s not. He’s my best friend.”

Mr. Nachman smiled, then clapped Evan on the shoulder. Evan sighed, totally caught, and watched across the room as Connor and Zoe kept talking, and Connor had put his arm around Zoe and that just made Evan really happy. 

Oh except, yeah, Zoe probably needed to eat something, and Connor was steering her toward the most empty snacks table and.

“Okay Zo, latke time.”

Evan offered the plate to her, expecting it. He tried to catch Connor’s eye, see if he thought Zoe needed something other than food, but Connor wasn’t looking at Evan and that was fine. 

“Mr. Nachman was telling me his mother’s latke secrets,” Evan said and then internally flinched at how loud that came out. Fuck. He might as well have just announced he wasn’t actually listening about the latkes and they had spent more time talking about how Evan was kind of pathetically lusting after Connor. 

“Is Hanukkah better than Christmas?” Zoe asked, still chewing her food. “There’s fried potato. It must be.”

“This is Connor’s sister,” Evan said to Mr. Nachman.

“I’m not usually this drunk. Happy holidays!”

Evan caught Connor’s eye for a moment and they smiled at each other, and that felt better, like Evan wasn’t actually super transparent. 

“Zoe, I’m going to go and get you some water,” Evan said, exiting the conversation in search of some water for his friend’s drunk sister. He felt weird standing in front of Zoe suddenly, like she’d also sniffed him out and he’d stupidly forgotten to take his Feelings Blocker for the day or something. 

He came back with water for Zoe and noticed that the party was thinning out a lot. Martha and Gladys walked over to congratulate Connor and say goodnight, and Evan, because he probably was an overgrown Boy Scout, talked his way into walking them to their cab because he was a little afraid Martha might slip on the ice outside. She was very old and very small and he didn’t want something to happen to her even though they didn’t really know each other. 

Evan bid Gladys and Martha a good night and then headed back into the bookstore, where Zoe was excitedly saying, “No way, Leslie, we’re basically neighbor -”

“Not really,” Connor said, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “There’s at least twenty blocks bet-”

“Leslie, we should share a ride home,” Zoe said brightly, ignoring Connor. “What do you think?”

Leslie looked uncertain, eyes darting between Connor and Zoe and (to Evan’s horror) him. “Do you need any help with the cleanup?” She asked Connor. 

“Not really,” Connor said. “I might honestly just leave the decorations up for the time being. Gives the place a nice wintery vibe.”

“Great then we can go,” Zoe said, her phone already in hand. “Our Lyft is going to be here in like. Three minutes. We better get our coats on.” Leslie hurried off to grab them, and Zoe gave Connor a tight hug. Then she grabbed Evan in his own hug and said, “Thank me later.”

Evan nodded and he and Connor just sort of stood there as Leslie and Zoe and the last few stragglers headed out of the bookstore. Once the door swung closed for the last time, Connor let out a sigh. “Hosting a party is exhausting.”

“Yeah, I’d imagine,” Evan said, and he started to collect up used glasses and empty plates and put them into piles while Connor locked the door and armed the alarm. “It was a good party though.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, it was fun,” Evan said with a smile and Connor grinned back at him and Evan just sort of stood there for a moment because, damn, Connor was just. Here and smiling at him and he was such a moron. 

 

* * *

 

Now that it’s just him and Evan left, Connor can feel some of the tension he’s been carrying around all evening leave him. It’s not that he had a horrible time or anything, it’s just that… well, being around people is exhausting for him sometimes. It’s okay when it’s work, but this is different than just talking to people about books they want to buy all day, and it’s taken a bit out of him. 

 

“Are you going to wash these upstairs or in the staff kitchen?” Evan asks, and Connor shakes his head. 

 

“The catering company are picking them up in the morning before we open and washing them,” he says. “They had a package that included me not having to do all the dishes, so I figured what the hell.” Evan looks a little bewildered, and Connor rushes to continue. “It wasn’t that much more expensive, and I knew that this would be tiring, you know? Being around lots of people like this kind of wears me out sometimes, so I figured I should make it easier on myself.” Evan nods like he understands, and Connor smiles, a little sheepishly. 

 

“I can go if you want me to,” Evan offers, his voice a little hesitant. “If you’re completely peopled out and just need to be alone.”

 

“You’re not people,” Connor says instantly, and Evan blinks and looks a little confused. “I mean, of course you’re a person, you’re just… being around people can be draining sometimes, but being around you isn’t like that. You don’t… wear me out.” A thought occurs to him. “Well, I mean, sometimes you do, but I always enjoy it, so, no complaints there.”

 

Evan smiles, a big bright genuine smile and Connor feels less like an idiot and more like he’s hanging out with his favorite person in the world and Evan starts packing plates and cups into the catering company’s box things and Connor goes to the storeroom to get the step ladder because he’s taking down that fucking mistletoe. 

 

When he gets back onto the storeroom floor, Evan’s got everything neatly stacked and is placing the boxes neatly by the door, which Connor thinks is very smart. He makes quick work of getting the mistletoe down and genuinely just chucks it in the bin, because fuck that, then he packs up the step ladder and heads back to the storeroom. 

 

It’s only when he puts the ladder in the closet that he realizes Evan’s followed him in. 

 

“Hi,” says Connor, and Evan’s looking him up and down kind of hungrily and Connor feels something like an electric current go right through him. 

 

And then Evan’s lips are on his, like they’re crashing into each other, and Evan’s hands are fumbling with his belt and stroking him through his jeans and the storeroom is usually cold but Connor is burning up, he’s on fire, and somewhere in the back of his mind he’s thinking to himself ‘fucking finally’ because even though he doesn’t think he was actively expecting this is how the night would end up, he desperately wanted it to. 

 

Connor pulls away briefly so he can kiss Evan’s neck, then pulls off Evan’s sweater so he can get closer to him. Evan’s wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt underneath and it gives Connor access to his collarbone, which Connor just has to lavish attention on, and it’s a fucking crime against humanity to hide that collarbone from the world, fuck. He reaches down to stroke Evan and feels how hard he is through his jeans and fuck, fuck, fucking hell, Evan’s undoing the fly of Connor’s jeans and his hand is in his underwear and now Evan’s dropping to his knees and

 

“Suck me off,” Connor moans before Evan can say anything. “Evan, holy fuck, please.”

 

Evan looks up at him and grins wickedly and slowly, slowly takes Connor’s cock in his mouth. Connor reaches down and runs his hand through Evan’s hair, the other hand steadying himself against the wall, and holy shit Evan’s good at this, sucking and licking and taking his sweet time, all with this satisfied look on his face like there isn’t anything else in the world he’d rather be doing, and Connor can’t get over how fucking hot he looks on his knees like this. 

 

“Fuck,” Connor swears, knowing that he’s close, he’s so fucking close, Evan’s so fucking good at this, he’s so fucking good, “Evan, Evan, I… oh my god, Evan.”

 

He closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall and comes hard, all his thoughts blanking out into a moment of hot pleasure that seems to last forever, and Evan’s still sucking and licking and Connor has to brace himself against the wall so he doesn’t collapse, he’s boneless and shaking and it’s so fucking good. 

 

It takes a while to come back to himself and he looks down to see Evan looking up at him with a smirk on his face, looking oh so very pleased with himself, and Connor’s not about to be the only one who gets an orgasm out of this so he reaches his hand down and pulls Evan to his feet and then presses him against the wall, kissing his neck and unzipping his jeans to reach into his boxers and start stroking his cock. 

 

“Connor,” Evan gasps, and he smiles and presses kisses against Evan’s collarbone as he runs his thumb over the tip of Evan’s cock. “Fuck.”

 

“You look so good on your knees,” Connor murmurs in Evan’s ear before kissing his neck again. “But I like you like this, too.” 

 

“Fuck,” Evan moans, and Connor starts stroking him faster, kissing his neck and whispering filthy things in his ear and it doesn’t take long before he’s coming all over Connor’s hand, moaning loudly and Connor loves hearing him moan. He keeps kissing Evan’s neck even after he’s finished, lightly and delicately, and after a moment Evan turns his head and kisses him properly and it’s… really nice. 

 

Evan is just… so great. 

 

There’s a conveniently placed box of paper towels within arms reach, so Connor grabs one with his free hand and hands it to Evan, then grabs another one and helps him clean up. Evan still looks so blissed out, so calm and relaxed, and it’s such a change from how weirdly nervous he’s seemed all day that it makes Connor really, really happy. 

 

He can’t help himself. He leans in and kisses Evan again, softer than he has in the past. 

 

Evan looks right at him, eyes wide, an expression Connor can’t quite figure out on his face. 

 

“It’s freezing outside,” Connor finds himself saying. “Stay over tonight. We can have a couple of drinks, maybe watch a movie? It’s not that late.”

 

Evan just keeps looking at him with those wide eyes and that same strange expression. 

 

“Please?” Connor continues. 

 

“I should really get home,” Evan says after a moment, sounding apologetic. “It’s a really busy time of year and I’ve got some things I need to get done before tomorrow morning, sorry.”

 

“Oh,” says Connor, who hadn’t known. “Sorry, I didn’t realize-”

 

“It’s okay-”

 

“You didn’t have to stay and help clean up-”

 

“I wanted to,” Evan says firmly. He offers Connor a smile. “I just, you know, have things to do.”

 

“Things,” Connor repeats. There’s this weird ringing in his ears that he can’t quite figure out. 

 

Maybe it’s the champagne. 

 

“Great party,” says Evan, doing up the fly of his jeans, then grabbing his sweater, and Connor does up his own jeans, and then they’re looking for Evan’s jacket which is back in the main part of the store and Evan’s ordering a Lyft and while they wait for it to arrive, they take the leftover alcohol upstairs. 

 

Connor really just wants to sit down and have some drinks with Evan, or heat up the leftover latkes and finish them off together, or drag him into his bedroom and go for another round, but Evan’s got things to do and they don’t involve Connor and it’s selfish of him to want him to stay. 

 

Connor waves Evan off as he leaves, locks the door and sets the alarm again and heads up to his apartment, wishing that Evan had stayed. 

 

* * *

 

Evan was going to ruin this if he wasn’t careful. 

So, he was careful. He focused on work because he really was busy - all of the gentiles at his job were taking some time off over the holidays and Evan had agreed to babysit their cases while they were away. It earned him some bonus points with his fascist boss (and was also part of the reason he was able to swing going home over Thanksgiving). 

So he genuinely does have shit to do.

Though that wasn’t why he refused to stay at Connor’s after the holiday party.

Evan thought if he saw Connor and it was all wintery and adorable in his bookstore that it would just come bursting out of him, that he was nursing this idiotic crush and ruining the good thing they had going. 

When Connor kissed him in the storeroom, Evan nearly fucked up everything. They were done with the sex and everything should have gone back to platonic, normal stuff but then Connor kissed him and told him he should stay and it was all right there, on the tip of his tongue, “Oh my god I think I like you” or something equally stupid but then Evan bowed out. He backed down, he walked away because he had to. 

No matter what he wanted, he had to make sure he didn’t fuck up this thing with Connor because it was too important, too precious, too real. 

So Evan pulled back a bit. He made sure to keep in contact - Connor was busy too, of course, Christmas was a big time for sales, so they didn’t see each other as much but Evan kept in touch. He even called sometimes. They’d talk about everything and nothing and Evan would be happier when he hung up… but he stayed physically away because if Connor kissed him, if Connor touched him, Evan might fall apart, might open his mouth and say something he couldn’t take back.

So he dodged Connor. Did stuff like order Connor pizza or Thai food and text him a lot so he wouldn’t decide Evan was overworking himself or show up to check on him because Evan was okay, he was just lovesick and pathetic. 

The day before Christmas, Connor texted asking if Evan got any time off over Christmas.  _ “Not really. But I do get to work from home tomorrow.” _

_ “Oh. That kind of sucks.” _

_ “Could be worse. You’re going home again, right? Say hi to your mom from me.” _

And Connor texted back,  _ “Did I not mention I’m staying in town? I’ve got to work today. And the 26th.” _

Evan frowned. 

Well that. 

Sucked. 

_ “Is Zoe in town at least?” _

_ “No, she went home.” _

Well that really sucked. 

_ “So you’re here by yourself?” _

_ “Yeah. Merry Christmas.” _

So, yeah, Evan hated that. 

A lot. That was not going to stand. Evan didn’t do Christmas, but he was not going to let Connor just be alone on his big holiday. 

So he got up early on Christmas morning, and found a bagel place that was open because there were enough Jews in New York to keep a bagel place operating and profitable, even on Christmas. He picked up bagels and coffee and then headed over to Connor’s apartment. He rang the bell, looking at the front door signed that said “HOLIDAY HOURS - CLOSED FOR CHRISTMAS DAY” and eventually Connor’s voice crackled onto the intercom. “We’re closed today. There’s a sign.”

“It’s Evan.”

There was a pause. “Be right down.”

A moment later, Connor was opening the door and letting Evan in, still in pajamas. “I thought you were working from home today?”

“I can work here,” Evan said with a smile. “I brought bagels.” He handed the box to Connor. “Also coffee.”

“Where’d you get this?” Connor asked, smiling. 

“Secret Jewish Bagel Society,” Evan said, cheekily. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

“Dude, you don’t have to hang out with me. You don’t do Christmas.”

“So? You do. I’m not leaving you alone today, come on.” 

They trooped up the stairs and sat in the kitchen, eating their bagels and drinking coffee and Evan was struck by just how much he had missed Connor over the last couple of weeks. He looked the same, mostly, though maybe a little tired. “How’s work been?” Evan asked because he wanted to know. 

“Busy. Uh… I don’t mean to brag, but November and December have been good months for us. We’ve moved a lot of stock.”

“You should absolutely brag,” Evan said, smiling at him. “That’s amazing.”

“Thanks,” Connor said and he took a bite of his bagel and then chewed carefully and swallowed. He looked at Evan, his face kind of pinched with worry. “Is… did we leave things in a weird spot after the party?” Connor asked. 

“No,” Evan said. Because Connor hadn’t done anything, hadn’t made it weird, it was all him. “Not at all. Sorry I’ve been so busy.”  
Connor smiled. “Okay. Me too. I’ve been busy too.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I know you don’t do Christmas and you have work to do… but have you ever seen _The Muppet Christmas Carol_?”

“I think I saw part of  _ Elf  _ once,” Evan said thoughtfully. “But nothing with Muppets.”

“Okay, so we’re watching that. Right now. You can answer emails if you want, but Zoe and I used to watch this thing every year when we were little and I haven’t seen it in forever.”

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Connor’s annoyance at someone ringing the bell on fucking Christmas completely disappears when he realizes it’s Evan. 

 

In fact, his heart does a little excited jump, a feeling he remembers from being a kid on Christmas, and it’s honestly a little embarrassing to have little-kid-on-Christmas levels of excitement at the knowledge that he’s going to see Evan. 

 

He rushes down the stairs and lets Evan in, still a little bit surprised that he’s here. It’s been over two weeks since they saw each other last and Connor’s had the sneaking suspicion that Evan’s kind of… annoyed at him or something. 

 

Maybe not annoyed, but definitely something. Sure, it’s a busy time of year, and they’ve texted nearly constantly, and Evan’s apologized for not being free for dinner a few times by genuinely ordering Connor food which is honestly super fucking cute, but at the end of the day Connor could care less about food, he’s just missed his friend. 

 

“I thought you were working from home today?” Connor asks. Evan’s got a bag with him and he’s holding coffee and a box and Connor’s heart does that weird excited kid-at-Christmas thing again. 

 

“I can work here,” Evan says, and he’s smiling and Connor thinks it looks like the sun. “I brought bagels. Also coffee.” 

 

He hands Connor a box and it’s a little bit warm even though it’s cold outside and Connor is just… a little overwhelmed, honestly, because this is so nice and as much as he’d told himself he was fine with spending today alone, it’s only now that he’s got someone here, someone he cares about so damn much, that he’s realizing that spending the day alone would have really sucked. 

 

“Where’d you get this?” Connor asks. He’s probably grinning like a fucking idiot. 

 

“Secret Jewish Bagel Society,” says Evan, and fuck that’s cute. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

 

“Dude,” says Connor, “you don’t have to hang out with me. You don’t do Christmas.”

 

“So?” Evan counters. “You do. I’m not leaving you alone today, come on.” 

 

That’s just…

 

Fuck, Evan’s amazing. 

 

They head upstairs and eat their bagels and coffee and Evan asks how work is going, and Connor tells him they’ve had a good couple of months, and Evan smiles and looks proud of him and Connor’s just really lucky to have a friend like Evan. 

 

Connor’s never really had friends before, so it’s not like he can say definitively that Evan is the best friend in the entire world, but he has a very strong suspicion, because honestly, he can’t imagine anyone else being this fucking cool, looking out for Connor, taking the time to spend a holiday he doesn’t even celebrate with him. 

 

It means a whole lot. A whole fucking lot. 

 

He looks at Evan as they eat their bagels and remembers that they haven’t actually seen each other in a few weeks, and that that’s weird for them, and has to check. Has to make sure they’re okay, because it would kill him if he’d fucked this up. 

 

“Is… did we leave things in a weird spot after the party?” Connor asks, a little uncertain. 

 

“No,” Evan says immediately, his face open and honest, and Connor relaxes a little. “Not at all. Sorry I’ve been so busy.”

  
“Okay,” Connor says, more than a little relieved. “Me too. I’ve been busy too.” He takes a sip of his coffee and thinks to himself idly that this is a nice way to spend Christmas, even though it doesn’t really feel like Christmas without... 

 

“I know you don’t do Christmas and you have work to do… but have you ever seen  _ The Muppet Christmas Carol _ ?”

 

“I think I saw part of  _ Elf  _ once,” says Evan. “But nothing with Muppets.”

 

Connor can’t help but grin. “Okay, so we’re watching that. Right now. You can answer emails if you want, but Zoe and I used to watch this thing every year when we were little and I haven’t seen it in forever.”

 

Evan grins back at him. “Okay.”

 

They relocate to the living room and Connor brings up the movie on his laptop, and kind of lets himself soak in the nostalgia of it all. He’d really fucking loved this movie. The opening musical number starts and he lets out a laugh about halfway through. “Even the vegetables don’t like him,” he repeats, turning to Evan with a grin. “I thought that was the height of comedy at the age of seven.”

 

Evan seems content to enjoy it and doesn’t mind Connor’s occasional commentary, including his assertion that all things considered, this is probably one of the more faithful adaptations of A Christmas Carol to exist. “Even if Bob Cratchit wasn’t a frog.”

 

Once it’s done, they hang out for a while, and Connor thinks to himself that there are very few people in the universe he’s okay with just… being with. Evan’s answering work emails and Connor’s reading and he kind of loves this, being able to do his own thing with the knowledge that someone’s there, just there, comfortable enough to do their own thing as well. 

 

He gets a text from his mom and goes into his room to give her a call. She’s a little wine drunk already, and she and Zoe are having a nice time watching movies, and Zoe’s going to have dinner with Larry tonight, apparently. They chat idly about books and holiday plans and Cynthia says she’s thinking of coming to New York for New Year’s, and Connor thinks it’ll be nice to see her. 

 

When they’re finished talking and the call is over, Connor takes a deep breath and calls his dad before he can talk himself out of it. Larry answers on the second ring. 

 

“Connor?” 

 

“Hi,” he says awkwardly. “Uh, Merry Christmas.”

 

“Oh,” says Larry, like he’s surprised to hear from him. “Merry Christmas.”

 

There’s an awkward pause. “How are you?” Connor asks after a moment.

 

“Good,” says Larry, sounding a little relieved that Connor’s broken the silence. “I’ll send your Christmas gift from your grandparents with your sister to bring back to New York with her.”

 

“Right,” says Connor. “Thanks.”

 

Another awkward pause. 

 

“Right. Well, I won’t keep you,” says Larry, and all Connor can think to himself is ‘thank fuck’. “Have a good day.” 

 

“You too,” says Connor, and he ends the call. 

 

Well. 

 

That could have been worse, he thinks. Considering what a shitshow Thanksgiving was, it’s downright civil. 

 

He heads back into the living room where Evan’s on his laptop, hard at work. He looks up when he sees Connor. “How are your parents?” he asks. 

 

“Good,” Connor says with a nod, then picks up the book he was reading and settles back on the sofa next to Evan.    
  


* * *

 

The movie was cute. Connor watching it and laughing and talking over some of the parts was a lot cuter. It left this heavy, warm feeling in Evan’s chest.

After it ended, Evan answered a few emails and Connor read and talked to his parents on the phone in his bedroom. It was nice. 

In the late afternoon, Connor looked at Evan, his head tilted slightly. “What do you normally do today?”

“Nothing,” Evan said, shrugging. “Growing up my mom would usually take a shift at the nursing home because it was time and a half. If she got the evening off, we’d order Chinese and then go see a movie.”

“Places were open to see movies?”

“Not everybody celebrates Christmas,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah here, sure, but in our home town? I’m kind of surprised.”

Evan shrugged. “Us non-Christians are just out here, hiding in plain sight. Infiltrating your nice neighborhoods.”

Connor laughed. “I am getting kind of hungry…?”  
Evan grinned at him. 

Less than an hour later, he and Connor were eating Chinese food in a place a few miles from Connor’s apartment which was offering a discount for folks who came in on Christmas. They each had a drink with dinner and filled up on egg rolls and Connor said softly to himself that he wasn’t going to get the sweet and sour pork because then Evan couldn’t try it and Evan didn’t know a fuckton about that Grinch story because he actively avoided it, but he knew there was something about hearts growing three sizes and he was pretty sure his did that in the middle of this Chinese restaurant. 

He just… Connor was really fucking great. 

After they had eaten their fill of greasy Chinese food, they made the short walk to the nearby movie theatre. On the way over, it started to snow a little and Connor stopped, looking up. “It hasn’t really snowed since…”

“Yeah,” Evan said quietly, watching the puff of mist that followed his exhale. Since February. There had been a few flakes here and there, but nothing that had stuck around since that night. 

“It’s pretty.”

“It is,” Evan said, smiling. 

They watched some silly romcom because it sounded like the least intense movie. It was lighthearted and funny and Connor would sometimes lean over to make pithy comments about how fucking hetero the whole thing was and Evan loved that. He loved having a friend who would lean over and make comments during a movie for him, specifically. He loved that Connor hadn’t expected to see him today but still made room for Evan in his plans. 

Fuck. Connor was the best person Evan knew. Just the best. And he could not ruin this with his weird feelings. So he did his best to put them away. Just ignore them. Connor deserved better than whatever weird crush Evan had could produce. 

Connor was too important to lose over something so stupid. 

Maybe he should pull the plug on the sex thing. They’d agreed if it ever started to feel weird that they’d stop, and catching feelings definitely qualified as weird and Evan should just pull the eject button now before someone got hurt. 

He and Connor took a Lyft back to Connor’s place. “Do you want to come up for a while?” Connor asked. 

Evan agreed though he wasn’t totally sure it was a wise decision. Inside, Connor made tea and Evan tried to rub some warmth back into his fingers. 

“Here,” Connor said, handing Evan a mug. 

“Thanks.”

They sat there in the quiet of Connor’s apartment, drinking tea and sitting next to each other on the sofa. It was nice. Calm. Maybe if the mainstream version of Christmas was more like this, Evan wouldn’t be so vehemently opposed to it. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to see your family today,” Evan said after a while. 

“It’s okay,” Connor said with a shrug. “Honestly, it’s just… different, being here without them. Christmas can be stressful and a lot of work and. It was weird though, not seeing them.”

“I get that,” Evan said. 

“Thanks for hanging out with me all day,” Connor said, and he nudged Evan gently. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’re my best friend. Of course I did.” He smiled down at his mug of tea. “Though obviously you know this means you owe me Yom Kippur or Rosh Hashanah though. I’m nice so I’ll let you pick.”

“I don’t even know what those are,” Connor admitted, smiling sheepishly. “Did we already miss them this year?”  
“Yeah, they’re in the fall.”

“Why didn’t you say something? I could have… Yom Kippur-ed.”

“I worked, actually. I would have asked for it off it I weren’t so new. You know how it is. Had to show I was a team player.”

“What do you even do on Yom Kippur?”

Evan smiled. “Fast. Apologize for the stuff you’ve done. You’re not supposed to work or have sex and really religious people avoid showering or wearing leather.”

“So it’s like… literally the opposite of Christmas,” Connor said with a smile. “No fun at all.”

“Oh so you’re supposed to fuck on Christmas?” Evan said with a laugh. 

“It’s allowed, I think,” Connor said smirking and then his hand was on Evan’s thigh. The air seemed to change, shift, charged with a sudden tension. 

Evan swallowed hard. 

When Connor kissed him, Evan kissed back, because he did miss this, he missed Connor’s mouth and his warm skin and okay, so, Evan wasn’t exactly the strongest willed person in the universe, he could own that, his squishy feelings were definitely winning this argument against having sex with Connor. Evan was not proud of this. But Connor was pulling Evan’s shirt over his head and kissing Evan’s neck and he couldn’t exactly convince himself that this wasn’t the best idea in the world. 

Connor shivered a little under Evan’s cold hands so naturally Evan put them everywhere, tracing up the sides of Connor’s body, roaming his chest and tweaking his nipple, unbuckling Connor’s belt and reaching into his jeans and stroking him. 

“Fuck.”

“It’s your holiday,” Evan said, smiling at Connor. “Any requests?”

Connor stared at Evan, his eyes big and his cheeks flushed and, asked, so very nicely, “Could you please blow me?”

Evan was more than happy to oblige. Connor lifted his hips and Evan pulled his jeans and underwear down, then roughly pushed Connor back against the sofa and settled on his knees in front of him. He glanced up at Connor quickly to see Connor’s eyes burning, and that was really hot, wow. Evan placed a kiss against the inside of Connor’s thigh which made his hips jerk and then he took Connor’s cock into his mouth, tongue tasting every inch as Connor gasped. 

Evan hummed contentedly and then got to work, his cheeks hollowing as he applied more suction and Connor’s hand was in Evan’s hair, gripping tightly as Evan ran his tongue across Connor’s slit and swearing, “Jesus, Evan, fuck.”

Evan pulled off for a second, smiling up at Connor. “It’s Jesus’s birthday, Connor. I don’t think he’d appreciate the foul language.”

“Fuck you,” Connor said, rolling his eyes. 

“Maybe someday,” Evan said. 

Connor’s eyes went wide. “What?” He said breathlessly. 

“You’d have to ask really nicely though,” Evan said, teasing, and Connor’s face was so flushed. “If you wanted to fuck me you’d have to ask politely.”

“Oh my god.”

Evan smiled wickedly at Connor, returning to the task at hand… well really, at mouth. Connor didn’t last much longer after their conversation and Evan took that very much as a compliment. Once Connor finished, Evan wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand and barely managed to stand up before Connor had pulled him back down on the sofa, kissing his neck and running his teeth along Evan’s collar bone which always made him go a little crazy. 

“You’d really let me fuck you?” Connor asked, his voice a bit ragged. 

“Yeah,” Evan said simply, feeling his face get warm “I trust you. If that was something you wanted, then sure.”

“Fuck that’s so hot,” Connor mumbled to himself, pulling Evan in for a hard, deep kiss. “I bet you’d look so good fucking hell.” He kissed Evan’s neck again, lips traveling from Evan’s neck to the shell of his ear, back down his collarbone while his hand reached into Evan’s jeans and wrapped around Evan’s hard cock. “I’m gonna get you off now okay?” Connor said and Evan nodded and Connor jerked him off while his tongue traced patterns on Evan’s neck and he didn’t last long either. It had been a while and Connor was very talented with his hands and long fingers and that fucking mouth. 

Not too terribly long after, Evan decided he ought to head out for the evening. Connor walked him out and gave Evan this warm, solid hug and it felt like, for once, Evan was exactly where he was supposed to be. 

“Thanks for hanging out with me today,” Connor said, still holding Evan to him. 

“Of course. You’re my best friend, I -” Evan stopped himself short, biting off the words that had almost broken free. He cleared his throat, stepping out of the hug. “I wasn’t going to let you spend the day all by yourself. It’s Christmas!”

Connor smiled at him and Evan gave him another, briefer hug, then said goodnight and headed out into the cold. The snow was still coming down in fairytale big flakes and sticking to the sidewalks and roads. Evan walked back to his apartment and fell asleep easily. 


	11. January (Eleven Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor buys a heater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the tags, check the tags, check the taaaaaaaaaags.

The weather took a turn for the frigid. Like, arctic frigid, like negative temps for more than a week, the heat in his building wheezing along to keep things from dipping into unlivable temperatures, frigid. 

And in Evan’s opinion, Connor made for an exceptional alternative to turning up the radiator. 

A beautiful, naked, gloriously erect alternative. 

Connor looked really, really good, his eyes closing, his mouth open as Evan pushed up into him. “Fuck,” he mumbled, his hand bracing against Evan’s chest and Evan wrapped his fingers around Connor’s hard cock, stroking him and Connor jerked, swearing, and rolling his hips in a way that made Evan gasp. “You like that?” Connor said, his voice raspy and ragged, and Evan nodded, yes, fuck yes, oh my god yes. 

This was their second round. They’d already fucked once, faster and more urgent and frantic when Evan first came in from the cold and put his freezing hands all over Connor’s body. 

And now they were going for round two. 

Evan pulled Connor down for a kiss, all lips and teeth and tongue, and then Connor pulled away, smiling wickedly and arching his back slightly, rolling his hips again and again and Evan lost his breath for a second. “Fuck,” Evan mumbled, thrusting up hard, relishing in the tightness the slick slide of their bodies together, “Fuck,  _ Connor. _ ”

“Evan, Jesus, I need - Evan  _ please- _ ”

Evan understood his meaning, picking up the pace, his hand on Connor’s cock matching their pace, stroking him faster, and Connor groaned loudly, and Evan could see beads of sweat collecting on his upper lip and hairline and he looked so good, so fucking good, his cheeks and chest and cock flushed red, his eyes closing. Connor’s cock was pulsing in Evan’s hand, and Evan stroked him harder, and Connor’s eyes rolled back and Evan panted, “You still with me?”

“Yes, yes,” Connor said, nodding, “Want to… want to hear you,” he said, grinding his hips down harder and Evan gasped, groaned loudly,  _ fuck,  _ fuck, it was like he was falling apart, he could barely breathe, it was like his legs and arms and head were going to come right off, like he was going to actually die, like the best fucking death, the best death fucking ever. 

Connor started shaking, his body trembling and he was whining, and then his eyes snapped open, pupils big and dark and then he was coming in Evan’s hand, streaks hitting Evan’s chest and he was so fucking loud and Evan could hardly stand how tight Connor was around him, and then he was falling over the edge too, he was slammed with an orgasm so hard that he nearly blacked out, his free hand digging so hard into Connor’s hip that he’d probably leave a bruise. 

Evan pulled slowly out of Connor, sitting up shakily and tossing the used condom into the trash can, flopping back down and Connor collapsed beside him, smiling hard, and Evan pressed a kiss to his cheek, noticing that Connor was still shaky, still trembly and out of breath. “Hey,” Evan said, his hand pushing Connor’s hair off of his face, his beautiful, blissed out face. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Connor said, his breathing hitching a little. “Yes.”

“You’re amazing,” Evan said and he wanted to pull him in for a kiss, he wanted to bury his face in Connor’s neck, to pull this beautiful man on top of him and feel his warmth and weight and just sleep. 

But this was just sex, so instead he smiled at Connor and held his hand up for a high five, which Connor gave him, albeit weakly. 

“Did I wear you out?” Evan asked, sitting up and fetching the slightly damp washcloth they had used during their first round of sex and then lost track of… He found it hanging from the knob of Connor’s bedside table and used it to gently wipe away the sticky traces of Connor’s come that had gotten just about everywhere.

“A bit, yeah,” Connor said, nodding, and now cleaned up, turned and buried his face in the pillow. “Your hair’s a mess,” he mumbled, with one eye open, reaching up and messing Evan’s hair up more. 

“Yours too,” Evan said, because it was, it was a lovely, beautiful, tangled mess. Evan really wanted to touch it but again, this was just sex and that usually didn’t involve post-coital hair stroking. Instead he ditched the washcloth and leaned back against the headboard. 

“Ugh, it’s freezing in here,” Connor groaned, pulling the blankets they had kicked to the bottom of the bed up over himself. 

“Maybe part of the problem is that you’re super naked,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. 

“Too tired to put on clothes,” Connor groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around him and Evan couldn’t resist poking him a bit in his side and Connor yelped and hit Evan in the face with his pillow and then the pair of them legitimately, like children, had a bit of a silly pillow fight. But they were naked and they’d just had sex so it wasn’t totally childish. 

What the fuck, it was like Evan’s life was a bad fucking romcom or something, fuck. 

“I should get dressed,” Evan said after a few minutes, because he was kind of cold and still super naked and also he usually didn’t loiter around naked after they’d both gotten off. “Is it okay if I grab a shower first?” Evan asked Connor. “I’m kind of gross.”

“Go for it,” Connor mumbled sleepily, his head back on the pillow, and Evan had to physically restrain himself from leaning over and pressing a kiss to the top of his head because he seemed so relaxed and Evan just… 

Fuck. 

Fucking Connor being super god damn cute and adorable was really not helping him in his quest to not be in love. 

He got up and grabbed a towel, heading into Connor’s bathroom and regretting it a bit because Connor was totally and completely right - his apartment was freezing. Fucking hell, Connor could stand to get a space heater, Evan thought. Maybe he would  _ buy _ Connor a space heater. He was here enough. 

Evan stepped into the bathroom and turned on the light before turning on the water and letting the shower heat up. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and almost laughed, because Connor was not kidding about his hair. It looked like a birds nest… where the birds had been fucking for hours. Hours and hours. 

On the top of the hair disaster, Evan could see that Connor had left a bite mark low on his neck, a place that likely wouldn’t be visible as long as Evan wore a tie for the next few days. His mouth was red, lips a bit swollen, and there were some scratches on his chest. 

Huh. 

That… did something to him. Made his stomach flip. Made him feel like Connor had marked him, like he had claimed Evan somehow and he was really doing a bad fucking job with that whole not being in love with Connor thing these days.

Evan didn’t usually spend a lot of time examining his post-sex self in the mirror, so it was kind of interesting to discover he did look less… Pinched. Uptight. Less like he was the kind of person who sweat through his clothes and had regular anxiety attacks. 

So that was something. 

The water finally warm enough, Evan pulled back the curtain and stepped into the spray, wanting to just relax a bit but unable to turn off the nagging voice in his head that told him he was wasting water by taking his time. So Evan rolled his shoulders and reached for Connor’s shampoo because his hair was objectively gross after two rounds of fairly athletic sex with Connor. Evan was just lathering it up when he heard the bathroom door open. 

“If you’re a murderer, can you please make it quick?” Evan said, tipping his head back to rinse the shampoo out of his hair. Connor pulled back the shower curtain, his eyes dark and Evan could see he was already half hard and. 

Oh fuck. 

He stepped into the tub, yanking the curtain back, and looking at Evan like he was looking through him. “Thought you might want some company.”

Evan grinned at him. “I really was just coming in here to shower,” He said. 

“Hmm,” Connor said. “Well, maybe I have a better idea.” He stepped into Evan’s space, practically pinning Evan back against the cold tile of the shower wall with his eyes. “Do you think you can get hard for me?” He asked and Evan lost his breath for a second, his cock definitely responding to Connor’s words. Connor leaned forward, water cascading down his body and Evan could see that he had left a bruise on Connor’s hip and, feeling emboldened by the way Connor was looking at him, he pressed the pad of his thumb against the bruise gently and Connor let out a sigh before he leaned in to kiss Evan, his mouth hot and wet, lips soft on Evan’s. 

“We should be careful,” Evan said breathlessly. “I died in the shower once. Well. Getting into the shower.”

Connor smiled at him. “Worth the risk,” he said, and then he was touching Evan, his hand warm and the water wet and fucking hell it would be really fucking nice if Connor could stop saying such goddamn romantic shit to him, it would make it whole lot easier for Evan not to be in love with him. Connor pulled him in for another kiss and Evan was definitely hard now, his own hands groping for Connor’s cock and he was so happy to learn Connor was erect too. 

“Fuck,” Connor groaned against Evan’s lips as Evan slowly, slowly stroked him. He quickened his pace, making Connor whine a little and then Connor pushed him back against the shower wall, his hand on Evan’s cock and his mouth against Evan’s ear, telling Evan how hot he looked and asking how he felt, if he liked that, if he could come for Connor, “Just come for me, I want you to come for me,” And considering exactly how much sex they had had in the last few hours, Evan was a bit shocked that he was able to come for Connor, his mind blanking out blissfully while Connor kissed his neck and Evan couldn’t just fucking let him get away with that so he dropped to his knees. Water poured over his head as he took Connor’s cock into his mouth, his tongue gently sweeping over the head and Connor hissed. He braced himself against the shower wall and Evan reached his free hand up between Connor’s cheeks where he was still stretched open and wet with lube and he started to finger him while he was blowing him. 

“Holy fuck, Evan,” Connor said, groaning, and Evan couldn’t see his face because when he looked up the shower obscured his vision but Evan could tell he was enjoying himself from the way Connor’s other hand was tightly pulling on Evan’s hair. 

Evan’s fingers thrust deeper into Connor and he took more of his cock into his mouth and Connor’s grip on his hair was almost too deliciously painful and he was moaning, loudly, saying Evan’s name like it was some kind of mantra, over and over again, “Evan, Evan, Evan,” and fuck that was really hot, damn it, and Evan dragged his tongue over the underside of Connor’s cock and then he moaned, his head thrown back, and came. Evan swallowed, fingering Connor as he rode out the orgasm, his hips finally shuddering to a halt and he let out a contented sigh. 

Evan looked up, smirking a bit, enjoying the look of satisfaction on Connor’s face. He gingerly pulled himself up from his knees, and, upon standing, announced that he was proud of them both for not dying. 

“Hey we died a bit,” Connor said with this stupid, lopsided grin. “The French call an orgasm le petit mort, you know.”

“Oh my god shut up,” Evan said groaning because that was so fucking corny. “You and your fucking love of the French.”

Connor laughed and he was smiling like he had won something and it sort of made Evan want to just kiss him until they both ran out of air. Instead, Evan kicked some of the water pooling near their feet at Connor. And Connor laughed again and it was Evan’s favorite sound in the world.

“I actually do need to wash my hair,” Connor said after a second, because, oh, right, they were just standing in a shower together. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Evan said, grabbing the towel Connor had lent him from the rack and stepping out of the tub carefully. He toweled off his hair and body, hurrying through Connor’s freezing apartment to retrieve his clothes from where they had been discarded on Connor’s floor, feeling a lot warmer than he had all winter. 

 

* * *

 

The weather shows no signs of improving when Sunday morning dawns. It’s fucking freezing outside, and it’s freezing in Connor’s apartment. By mid-morning, he’s decided that there’s absolutely no point to being completely fucking freezing so he’s going to go buy a heater. He takes a moment to stand in the book store before heading out, because the bookstore has better heating and he’s very, very cold. 

 

Leslie laughs when she sees him. “You look like a Dickensien orphan,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “With your fingerless gloves. Is it really that cold in your apartment?”

 

“Yes,” he confesses, standing near the heater by the counter, and closing his eyes in contentment. “I am a-chilled to my bones.” 

 

“That’s… not Dickens.”

 

“Shut up, I’m cold.” Connor opens his eyes and looks at her, realizing something. “Wait, why are you here? Garrett usually does Sundays.”

 

“He asked me to cover for him,” she says with a shrug. “Said he’d cover a Saturday for me sometime.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

 

“It’s a new year,” Connor says diplomatically. “Anything is possible.”

 

“So diplomatic,” says Leslie with a laugh. “Really leaning into the whole ‘sensible boss’ thing.”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

Leslie laughs even more. “Ah, there we go.” She bites her lip after a moment. “So he asked me not to tell you, but… Garrett is looking for another job.”

 

“Huh,” says Connor, because… well, he won’t be sad to see Garrett go. “I mean, it’s his life.” He looks at Leslie. “He’s asked you to cover a lot recently.”

 

“Yeah,” she says with a shrug. “I don’t mind, but…”

 

“If he asks you to cover for him again, tell me,” Connor says firmly. “I’ll talk to him.” 

 

Leslie opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes it and nods. Connor figures she was probably going to say something along the lines of “Garrett doesn’t like you enough to take you seriously” and that’s… probably fair. 

 

Connor says goodbye to Leslie and heads out into the bitter cold, before flagging down a taxi to head to a store he knows sells space heaters that he’s looked up online. When he gets there, he’s a little surprised to find that it’s three doors down from a sex store. 

 

And.

 

Well.

 

Since Evan seems to have decided that Connor is his own personal heater in this cold snap and likes to get him as hot as possible, maybe he should go have a look and find something they might both enjoy. 

 

Connor hasn’t spent a lot of time in sex stores, but this one seems very… hetero. There are hot pink vibrators and creepy-looking fleshlights and honestly everything looks either badly made or just kind of terrifying. The place seems to feature a ton of what look like slutty Halloween costumes for women that are honestly making Connor cold just looking at them, because there’s barely any fabric and these poor women are going to get pneumonia. 

 

Mostly, this store contains aisles and aisles of really awful looking straight porn, as well as a bunch of lesbian porn where they’ve all got fake nails on and Connor lived with Andi long enough to have heard her rants on lesbian porn. (He walked in on her and some friends trying to film their own feminist lesbian porn in the living room one time and honestly doesn’t think he’s ever fully recovered.) 

 

It’s all a little depressing, to be honest. There’s a gay porn section which contains a whopping three DVDs - not that he’s interested in buying porn, but still. And who buys porn on DVD anymore? Fucking hell. 

 

Connor’s about to call the whole thing a wash when he sees something that sparks a memory. 

 

Namely, Evan accidentally admitting in his office last October that Sabrina had once tied him to a bed. 

 

And. 

 

Well.

 

The idea of Evan tied to a bed is… definitely appealing.

 

Connor inspects the restraint set, hoping that his red cheeks can be attributed to the cold. There are cuffs that look soft and it’s designed to fit under a mattress and compared to some of the shit here, it looks downright sturdy. 

 

He makes a snap decision and heads to the counter, to where a bored-looking guy who’s probably in his late thirties is genuinely playing Minecraft on a computer. 

 

Connor supposes it could be worse. The guy could be watching some of the store’s terrible lesbian porn. 

 

The guy looks at him, looks at the restraints and gives Connor a nod of approval. “Alright,” he says, and Connor hates it immediately. “Yeah, these are pretty fucking sweet, dude. And you can adjust them so they have more or less give, depending on how much your lady likes to move around.”

 

Connor’s not even going to fucking bother with that one. 

 

“Oh hey, you should check out this balm stuff,” says the guy, gesturing to a display on the counter. “You, like, put it on her pussy and it-”

 

“Not interested,” says Connor sharply. “How much do I owe you?”

 

Connor pays and gets out of there as quickly as he can, shoving the paper bag-wrapped box in his bag that he’s suddenly very glad he brought with him before heading into the store to buy a heater. It’s a relatively quick, painless process and he’s back home before midday. 

 

Once he gets back to his apartment, he unboxes the heater, puts it in his room and turns it on and just… sits there in front of it for a moment. 

 

Mercifully, it doesn’t take long for the room to warm up. He takes off his jacket and hangs it up, then sets about tidying up a little bit. Then he strips off the sheets from yesterday’s sex marathon with Evan and looks at the mattress thoughtfully for a while. 

 

Twenty minutes later, he’s managed to set up the restraint set, remake the bed with fresh sheets and put yesterday’s sheets in the laundry. He heads to the kitchen to make a hot drink, leaving the door of his bedroom shut to keep the warmth in, when he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. 

 

He looks at the screen at sees that it’s Evan. 

 

**Just checking to make sure you haven’t frozen in death in your freezing apartment.**

 

He grins and replies. 

 

**Actually I just went out and bought a heater**

 

The response is immediate. 

 

**Oh thank fuck**

**I was this close to buying you one**

**Seeing as I’m naked in your apartment often enough**

 

Connor can’t help himself. 

 

**I bought something else while I was out, actually**

**Something you might be interested in**

 

**Oh?**

**Do tell**

 

**I could tell you**

**Or I could show you**

**Come over**

 

Evan doesn’t reply for a moment. Connor’s suddenly worried he’s come on too strong and is about to say that Evan doesn’t have to when there’s a response

 

**If I brave the cold to come all the way to your apartment**

**Do you promise you’ll make it worth my while?**

 

Connor grins. 

 

**Oh, I’ll make it worth your while**

**Three times at least**

 

Evan’s response is immediate. 

 

**I’ll see you soon**

 

Evan arrives maybe half an hour after his text, and he’s got a canvas bag with him and he puts it on the kitchen table before kissing him firmly, pushing Connor against the wall and kissing him, his cold hands reaching up under his shirt and making him gasp.

 

“What’s in the bag?” Connor asks. 

 

“Granola bars,” says Evan, fumbling with Connor’s belt. “For energy.”

 

Connor’s genuinely about to tease him because that’s so fucking dorky and adorable when Evan’s mouth is on his, and then he’s being dragged into his bedroom, and Evan closes the door and pushes Connor against his bedroom wall and smiles in satisfaction. Connor takes the opportunity to pull of Evan’s jacket and scarf, then his sweater and shirt all in one go until Evan’s shirtless. “Heater was a good move,” Evan says, smiling at Connor before pulling off Connor’s shirt. “Now. What were you going to show me?”

 

Evan’s grinning, and Connor grabs the box the restraints came in from the bedside table and hands it to him. 

 

Then Evan’s eyes widen in recognition. 

 

“I set them up,” says Connor. He stands behind Evan and kisses his neck and presses himself up against him, reaching down to stroke Evan through his jeans. “All ready to go under the bed. But only if you want me to.”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“When you told me about Sabrina tying you to the bed in October,” Connor continues, stopping to kiss Evan’s neck, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how good you must have looked. All tied up and naked. I bet you were fucking gorgeous.”

 

“Connor,” Evan says in a gasp, then turns around and kisses Connor and pulls him down onto the bed with him. They make out for a while, Evan’s hands tangled in Connor’s hair, and Evan kicks off his shoes and Connor works off Evan’s jeans and then he’s got Evan naked and he wants to see him tied to the bed, he desperately wants it, but he only wants it if Evan’s one hundred per cent on board. 

 

“I want to tie you to this bed,” Connor says, looking Evan in the eye. “I want to tie you to this bed and touch you everywhere until you’re begging me to make you come. But only if you let me. Only if you want it.”

 

Evan practically lunges at him and starts working off the rest of Connor’s clothes until they’re both naked and fuck, the heater was an excellent idea because they’re warm but now Connor thinks he’s burning up. Then Evan’s stroking his cock, running his thumb across the tip and Connor moans and almost completely stops fucking thinking, and Evan kisses him hot and wet and pulls his hair and - 

 

“Yes,” says Evan, his mouth against Connor’s ear. “I want it, fuck yes.”

 

Connor thinks that’s the fucking hottest thing he’s ever heard. He kisses Evan hard and then pushes him against the bed again, pinning Evan down by his wrists and kissing his neck and Evan is gloriously naked underneath him and… 

 

“Okay,” says Connor, letting go of Evan’s wrists and sitting up, then moving so he’s put some distance between them, because if they’re going to do this, they’re going to do it properly. Evan looks a little bewildered at the sudden loss of skin contact, but Connor continues before he can say anything. “I know you’ve done this before, but I want to make sure we’re… you know, talking about it first.”

 

“Okay,” says Evan, nodding, and he’s moving closer to Connor and Connor absolutely cannot let himself get distracted because Evan’s pupils are blown and he’s hard and his skin is flushed and he is so fucking hot like this. 

 

“Can I blindfold you?” Connor asks, and he can swear he sees Evan’s cock twitch at his words. 

 

“Yes,” says Evan breathlessly. “Fuck, anything you want, fuck Connor.”

 

Connor grins. “As nice as that sounds,” he says, because it does sound nice, “we need to negotiate some things first.”

 

“Okay,” says Evan, and he bites his lip and Connor absolutely cannot let himself get distracted but now he’s thinking that  _ he _ might like to bite Evan’s lip and…

 

“Did you have a safeword with Sabrina?” 

 

Evan blinks. “Um. I don’t… I don’t think so?”

 

“Do you want to use one or can you just tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable?” Connor asks. 

 

Evan blinks again, then laughs a little. “I don’t… how do you pick a safeword?”

 

“How about shellfish?” Connor suggests.

 

“Shellfish?”

 

“Well, you’re Jewish.”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“Is that too weird?” Connor says, and he’s starting to feel a little worried, because what if he fucks this up, what if he freaks Evan out, what if Evan’s not into it, what if he’s just going along with it because he knows Connor wants it-

 

“I can just say stop,” Evan says with a lopsided grin. “It’s okay.” He quirks an eyebrow at Connor. “Are you going to tie me up now?”

 

Fuck, that’s hot. 

 

“I’m getting there,” says Connor, instead of just immediately putting Evan’s wrists and ankles in the restraints like he’s itching to do. “Just… you can stop me any time, okay? If you change your mind or you’re uncomfortable or anything, just tell me to stop and I will stop, no questions asked.”

 

“I know you will,” says Evan, and his face is so open and warm and trusting and Connor knows Evan doesn’t trust easily, and Connor doesn’t trust easily either, but they trust each other, they’ve seen each other through things other people couldn’t even imagine, and…

 

“I’ve got you,” says Connor, looking Evan straight in the eye. “I want to make you feel good, okay? I… I’ve got you.”

 

Evan leans in toward him and kisses him, almost gently, and something in Connor’s stomach twists weirdly. Then Evan lies back on the mattress and puts his arms above his head and..

 

Well. 

 

Connor works quickly but carefully, securing each cuff and checking in to make sure it’s comfortable, it’s not too tight, and Evan says it’s fine every time, and soon he’s got Evan cuffed and spread-eagled on his bed and fucking hell he wants to burn this image into his brain, he wants to never forget how incredibly hot this is, how amazing it is that Evan let him do this, and…

 

“Fuck,” he says, without meaning to. 

 

“You like this?” says Evan teasingly.

 

“Do you?” Connor asks, not quite as teasing, and Evan grins, and Connor leans in to kiss him, hot and wet and deep and Evan’s whimpering a little underneath him, and it’s strange not to have Evan pulling his hair, pulling him in closer like he always does, but it’s also incredibly hot, having Evan immobilized like this, completely at Connor’s mercy. 

 

Connor grabs the flimsy blindfold that came with the restraint set and holds it up in front of Evan. “May I?” he asks, and Evan’s eyes flash dark with lust and he visibly swallows then he nods. 

 

Connor reaches down to kiss Evan again, then slides the blindfold over his eyes, making sure it’s comfortable. “You good?” he asks, and Evan murmurs his agreement, and…

 

Well.

 

Connor just drinks him in for a long moment, committing this sight to memory. Evan’s breathing heavily, his chest flushed and his lips red and his cock hard and his wrists and ankles cuffed and he’s blindfolded and it’s the hottest fucking thing Connor’s ever seen. 

 

“Fucking hell,” Connor says, his voice raspy to his own ears. “You’re fucking gorgeous like this, Evan, fuck.”

 

“Well?” says Evan, his voice teasing, and Connor’s not about to let that slide. 

 

He leans down and presses hot kisses in a trail from Evan’s collarbone to his navel, and Evan moans and his cock is twitching and Connor’s not going to touch him yet. 

 

Then he kisses Evan’s left wrist, and Evan kind of shudders like he wasn’t expecting it, and Connor loves that Evan doesn’t know what’s coming next, loves seeing him tied up like this, and Connor kisses his wrist again, then the crook of his elbow, then his collarbone, then he rakes his teeth gently along Evan’s neck, and Evan’s swearing and moaning and Connor’s aching to just take Evan’s cock in his mouth but he’s not going to do that just yet. 

 

“Connor, oh my god,” Evan moans, and Connor moves down the bed and kisses Evan’s inner thighs. First the left, then the right, then the left again, then he runs his fingernails gently along Evan’s hipbone, and Evan jerks wildly underneath him, and he’s so fucking hard and Connor’s not going to suck him off just yet, even though he wants to, because…

 

He’s too beautiful like this to rush. 

 

He’s far, far too beautiful like this. 

 

Connor moves up Evan’s body, placing haphazard kisses on his way, and Evan moans and then Connor kisses Evan’s neck and licks his collarbone and kisses his neck again and then whispers in his ear. “I wish you could see how gorgeous you are like this.”

 

“Connor,  _ please.” _

 

“Please what?” Connor replies teasingly. “Please keep touching you?” 

 

“Oh my  _ god.” _

 

Connor grins. “I might just leave you here for a minute, okay? I’m a little peckish.”

 

Evan lets out a noise that’s a cross between a moan and a yelp. “Don’t you fucking  _ dare _ .”

 

“Hey, you’re the one that brought granola bars,” Connor continues. He’s enjoying himself far too much.

 

“Connor, I swear to god if you-”

 

Connor cuts him off by kissing him hard and filthy and wrapping his hand gently around Evan’s cock and he can feel Evan writhing underneath him and moaning against his mouth and he’s changed his mind,  _ this _ is the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Connor pulls away, then kisses Evan’s neck and moves his mouth back up to his ear. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, still stroking Evan slowly, at what he hopes is an agonizing pace. “I’m not missing a fucking  _ second _ of this,  _ fuck _ you are so fucking  _ gorgeous _ like this, you are…”

 

He doesn’t trust his mouth not to say something stupid and embarrassing in the heat of the moment so he kisses Evan again, then kisses his neck, and focuses on kissing his way down Evan’s body and then he kisses Evan’s left hipbone. 

 

Then his right.

 

Then, after a moment, his left again. 

 

“Connor,  _ please.” _

 

“Please what?” Connor asks, grinning. 

 

“Please,  _ please I need… _ fuck, Connor,  _ please-” _

 

“Do you want my mouth on your cock, Evan?”

 

“Yes,  _ fuck _ yes, Connor,  _ please. _ ”

 

Connor kisses Evan’s hipbone again, then again, then licks along his hip and Evan moans and swears and…

 

“I want to hear you ask nicely,” Connor says, and honestly at this stage he’s kind of amazed at his own self-control, but there’s something incredibly hot about having Evan at his mercy like this, having him writhing and pleading and so, so, so beautiful like this. 

 

“Please Connor.” Evan’s panting and moaning and the words come out almost like a whine. “Please. I want your mouth… please,  _ fuck Connor, I-” _

 

Connor presses a wet kiss to the tip of Evan’s cock and Evan’s hips buck wildly and he’s moaning and pleading and Connor takes his entire length in his mouth, as deep as he can, focusing everything he has on Evan, on his cock in his mouth and the noises he’s making and the fact that he’s let Connor do this, that Evan’s at Connor’s mercy right now and that as much as he’s enjoyed teasing him, Connor knows that at the end of the day he will be merciful. It’s not long before Evan’s coming hard, Connor’s name on his lips in what’s almost a yell, and Connor swallows him down and lets Evan ride out his orgasm until he’s stopped shaking, until he’s panting and almost boneless with pleasure on Connor’s bed, and it’s only then that Connor pulls away and inspects his own handiwork. 

 

Evan’s still breathing heavily but he’s got this goofy smile on his face and he looks so, so, so beautiful. “Uncuff me, please?” he says, his voice a little rough, a little worn, and Connor rushes to release him, to uncuff his ankles then his wrists, and then Evan pulls off his blindfold and looks Connor in the eye and he looks so fucking blissed out and he is so, so, so beautiful. 

 

Which is, Connor is starting to realize, a weird thought to have about your best friend slash fuck buddy, so he pushes it out of his mind. “You okay?” he asks instead, and a part of him really wants to just… kiss Evan on the forehead, push his sweaty hair out of his face and kiss him gently, but that’s weird, too, and-

 

Connor’s genuinely not expecting Evan to pull him onto the bed, then reach down and start stroking his cock. 

 

“You don’t have to-” Connor begins, but Evan’s interrupting him before he can even complete the thought. 

 

“Like I’m going to let you get away with me being the only one who comes,” Evan says with a smirk, and he still looks so blissed out but his eyes are dark and mischievous as he strokes Connor. “I bet you won’t last long.”

 

Connor lets out a strangled moan, because Evan is absolutely right, he’s almost painfully turned on after seeing Evan cuffed to his bed. “Fuck.”

 

Evan kisses his neck. “Did you like that?” he murmurs into Connor’s ear. “Did you like having your way with me?”

 

“Evan, fuck yes, fuck, I-”

 

“It might not be tonight,” Evan says, almost conversationally, “but you can bet that turnaround’s fair play, and I have plenty of ideas for when I get  _ you _ in those cuffs.”

 

“Fuck,” Connor moans, because Evan is ridiculously good with his hands, and he’s imagining Evan’s hands everywhere, all over his body, Evan’s hands and his mouth and his cock and Evan Evan  _ Evan _ and 

 

Connor comes hard, so hard he thinks he might pass out, and he leans back against the pillow and it genuinely takes him a full minute to catch his breath, and Evan is warm beside him and he is still so, so, so beautiful. 

 

Once Connor recovers, once he comes down from this high, he can work on dealing with these weird inappropriate thoughts about his best friend. But for now, he’ll just lean his head on Evan’s shoulder and drift for a moment or two, somewhere between awake and asleep. 

 

* * *

 

Okay, so this had officially gotten a bit out of hand. Officially. Out. Of. Hand.

Evan shouldn’t have let that happen. He’d totally lost the thread of what they were doing here, this was supposed to be fucking cardio and now he was letting Connor tie him up and have his way with him, like that was not exercise that was torture. 

Amazing, mind-blowing, torture but that was not the point, the point was that Evan should have probably just asked Connor to gag him too because he’d nearly lost himself in that moment, almost blurted out that he was in love with Connor and that would ruin absolutely everything. 

Marcia had told Evan time and again that there was nothing wrong with being vulnerable in front of people you cared about but he was willing to bet physical money that she didn’t mean “so go ahead and let your best friend tie you up and blindfold you for sex” when she said that. That was a step too far into being vulnerable. 

It was amazing though. And Evan had really enjoyed himself. A lot. But Connor was pushing at something and he didn’t realize what it was and Evan had to…

He ought to pull the plug on the sex for the time being. They had taken breaks before. Evan could walk away, keep their friendship, until the unrelenting squishy feelings subsided a bit. 

Or he could just. 

Not hand over control to Connor. 

It wasn’t the most nuanced solution, but if Evan called the shots then he might be less likely to lose himself so completely, to worry about his lips loosening. 

Plus it was really very cold in January. Connor was a warm body, and Evan wasn’t going to start denying himself orgasms just because his heart was getting in the way here. He’d just. Call the shots a little more. Take control back. 

He could do that. 

He could make that work. 

He could. 

 

* * *

 

Connor’s just about to lock the front door to close the store for the night when the bell rings. He’s about to tell whoever it is that they’re closing when he sees that it’s Evan. 

 

Who walks right up to Connor, pushes him against a display and kisses him firmly, his hand skimming across Connor’s belt, then reaching down to touch him through his jeans. 

 

Connor pulls away just long enough to kiss Evan’s neck, then smirks. “Welcome to The Little Book Nook. Were you looking for anything in particular this evening?”

 

Evan looks at him, looks right through him, his eyes dark and demanding. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you for the past three hours,” he says, and Connor presses up against him and can feel how hard he is already. 

 

Fucking hell. 

 

Connor has half a mind to just drop to his knees and suck Evan off, right in the middle of the bookstore, but manages to restrain himself. “Let me close up,” he says, knowing his voice is coming out a little rough because he’s so fucking turned on. “You can head upstairs if you like.”

 

Evan kisses him again, biting Connor’s lip, then tugging Connor’s hair and pressing a hot kiss against his neck. “Don’t keep me waiting too long,” he says teasingly, and Connor has absolutely no intention of doing that. 

 

Connor does, however, watch Evan turn around and head up to his apartment. Evan has clearly gotten changed since finishing work and he’s in a pair of jeans that do incredible things to his ass, fucking hell. 

 

Fucking hell. 

 

It doesn’t take long for Connor to lock the door, balance the till and arm the alarm, and then he’s heading up to his apartment, and into his bedroom, and when he gets there Evan’s already naked and hard on his bed and fucking hell, that’s hot. 

 

“You took your sweet time,” says Evan with a smirk, and Connor nearly trips over himself in his hurry to get on the bed and touch Evan, because how can he resist when Evan’s naked and hard on his bed, fucking hell. Evan kisses him hard, almost too hard but not quite, and quickly undoes Connor’s belt and unzips his jeans and puts his hand in Connor’s underwear and fuck fuck fuck 

 

“Evan, holy shit.”

 

“You are wearing far too many clothes,” Evan says in his ear, tugging at the bottom of Connor’s sweater, and Connor pulls it off eagerly and kicks off his shoes and lets Evan take off his pants and then Evan’s kissing his way down Connor’s chest, stopping to pinch his nipple firmly, making Connor gasp, and then Evan’s mouth is on Connor’s cock and Evan’s looking at him, looking right at him, and Connor lets out a probably embarrassingly loud moan because this is ridiculously hot. He runs his hand through Evan’s hair and Evan makes this contented noise around his cock and the vibration goes right through him, fuck fuck fuck. 

 

“I’m still wearing my socks,” Connor blurts out, and Evan stops blowing him and sits up. 

 

“Seriously, that’s what you’re thinking about while I’ve got your dick in my mouth?”

 

“Not really,” Connor admits, but he reaches down to pull off his socks because he feels weird having sex in just his socks. Once he’s got his socks off, Evan pushes him against the bed roughly, then climbs over him to get supplies from his bedside table, and Connor takes the opportunity to kiss Evan’s hip because it’s right there, and Evan’s breathing hitches and he swears under his breath. Encouraged, Connor moves closer and keeps pressing kisses to Evan’s hips, and then he’s being pushed back against the bed again, even harder this time. 

 

“Behave,” Evan says firmly, smirking a little. 

 

“And if I don’t?” Connor replies with a smirk of his own.

 

In response, Evan pours some lube on his fingers and slowly, far too slowly, starts fingering Connor. “If you don’t,” Evan says, leaning down and kissing Connor’s neck, “I just might not let you come.”

 

Connor lets out a groan and reaches down to stroke his cock, and Evan uses his other hand to swat it out of the way. “Don’t make me tie you up,” Evan warns, and fuck, that’s hot, that’s really really fucking hot. “And don’t touch yourself. If you’re good, I’ll let you come. You can be good for me, can’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Connor gasps. “I can -  _ fucking hell  _ \- I can be good for you.”

 

Evan’s fingers are working Connor open, so so slowly, and Connor leans back and closes his eyes and just gives in to the feeling. He desperately wants to stroke himself, but Evan seems to be in an extra bossy mood today, and he’s going to be good, do whatever Evan wants, because Evan being bossy is... 

 

Well, it’s a definite turn on. 

 

Evan pulls out his fingers and Connor actually whimpers at their absence, fucking hell, and he watches as Evan rolls a condom over his cock and spreads some lube on himself and then slowly, slowly, far too slowly positions himself between Connor’s legs and enters him slowly, slowly, far far far too slowly, and Connor is going to lose his damn mind here. 

 

“Evan,” he gasps, and then Evan’s hands are pinning him down by his wrists, and Connor couldn’t stroke himself if he wanted to now, and Evan’s moving slowly, slowly, far too slowly. “Please.”

 

“Please what?” Evan shoots back, eyes dark and blazing with lust. 

 

“Please fuck me.”

 

Evan smirks and starts moving a little faster. But only a little. He’s setting a torturously slow pace, and Connor’s so fucking hard and he desperately wants to touch himself but his wrists are being held down, and then Evan increases his speed, little by little, and Connor rolls his hips the way he knows Evan likes and Evan swears, and there’s sweat breaking out on his hairline and upper lip and he starts to fuck Connor in earnest. 

 

“Fuck, Connor, you feel so good,” Evan moans, and he’s going faster and faster now, his grip on Connor’s wrists almost bruising, and his eyes are closed and his hips are moving faster and faster and Connor is actually going to lose his mind, he’s actually going to lose his fucking mind if Evan doesn’t keep going, it’s just so fucking good and Evan looks so good like this, and Connor rolls his hips again and meets Evan’s thrusts the best he can and then Evan’s coming hard, thrusting harder as he rides out his orgasm, and his eyes are closed and his head is thrown back and it’s the sexiest fucking thing Connor can imagine, fuck fuck fuck. 

 

Evan pulls out of Connor carefully, letting go of one of his wrists, but Connor knows better than to reach for his cock, even though he desperately wants to. Evan disposes of the condom and then smiles at Connor, his eyes flashing with something like pride. “Very good,” he says approvingly, and then his mouth is on Connor’s cock, tongue sliding across the tip, and it’s hot and wet and amazing and Evan looks him straight in the eye as he fingers Connor again as he’s blowing him and Connor is moaning and gasping. 

 

“I’m close,” he gasps, “fuck Evan, I-”

 

And then Evan pulls his fingers away and lets Connor’s cock slip out of his lips and Connor actually gasps. “Do you think you’ve been good enough to come?” Evan says, his eyes dark, and fuck fuck  _ fuck. _

 

“Please,” Connor whines, pleads, begs. “Please please please, let me come.”

 

“Oh, I  _ like _ you like this,” Evan says, sounding very satisfied. Way too fucking satisfied, if you ask Connor. “All turned on and needy and begging. You want to come so badly, don’t you?”

 

“Please,” Connor gasps, and he’s so close, he’s on the edge and it’s driving him crazy, and Evan’s watching him so intently and he’s going to lose his fucking mind,  _ holy shit. _

 

Evan reaches down and pinches Connor’s nipple lazily, and Connor think he might actually pass out. Evan grins. “You look so hot like this.”

 

“I’ve been good,” Connor manages to gasp out. “Please Evan, let me come, I’ll be so good, I-”

 

Evan’s hand wraps around Connor’s cock and starts stroking it firmly and Connor moans again, a long drawn out moan because it’s so fucking good, Evan’s so damn good with his hands, fuck fuck fuck. “You’re so good,” Evan says approvingly. “So very, very good.” He kisses Connor’s neck, all the way down to his collarbone, then back up to his ear.  “You can come for me now. Come for me.” 

 

Connor thinks he’s going to fucking black out as he comes, Evan’s name on his lips, closing his eyes and letting the orgasm wash over him and fuck fuck fuck  _ fuck _

 

Evan keeps stroking him, keeps touching him, his mouth by Connor’s ear telling him how good he is, how hot he looks, how well behaved he’s been, and Connor is trembling a little, because that was…

 

Fucking hell. 

 

Evan presses a kiss against his neck, then one against his cheek. “I’ll get a washcloth,” he says, and puts on Connor’s bathrobe before leaving the room, and Connor just closes his eyes and tries to collect himself, tries to stop shaking, because… wow. 

 

Okay. 

 

Apparently he liked that. A lot. 

 

He doesn’t hear the door open, apparently, because all of a sudden he can feel something warm and damp on his stomach, around his hips, and he can see that Evan’s cleaning him up and he goes to take the washcloth off him but his hands are shaking, and Evan finishes cleaning him up and then puts the washcloth on the bedside table and lies down next to Connor, still wearing his bathrobe, but takes a moment to pull up the blankets and cover Connor up to keep him warm. 

 

Connor likes seeing Evan in his bathrobe. 

 

“Wore you out, huh?” Evan says, his voice low and amused. 

 

“Fucking hell, Evan,” Connor says, looking at Evan and laughing a little. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

 

“Absolutely,” says Evan, sounding very pleased with himself, and Connor’s suddenly struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss him, for some reason. 

 

He just… really likes Evan. Likes that he’s kind and thoughtful and a really fucking good person and a good friend, but also that he’s ridiculously hot and ridiculously good in bed and honestly, Connor feels like if word got out as to how good Evan Hansen really was in bed, he’d probably have to, like, book in advance to have sex with him. 

 

Connor’s just really lucky to have him. 

 

Have him in his life, that is. 

 

Evan’s not his or anything, he’s just… 

 

Connor’s lucky. 

 

Instead of kissing Evan like he wants to, he reaches up his hand. “High five?”

 

Evan laughs and high fives him, then sits up and kind of stretches a little. “I’m going to order pizza,” he says after a moment, and reaches for his phone that he’s left on the bedside table. “Unless you want something else?”

 

“Pizza’s good,” Connor mumbles, and he buries his head in the pillow for a moment, just a moment, and he can hear Evan laugh a little and then he must have drifted off because all of a sudden, he’s being gently shaken awake, and Evan’s dressed again. 

 

“I really did wear you out,” Evan says, sounding a little concerned. “You good?”

 

“I’m good,” says Connor blearily, sitting up and pulling the blanket closer to him. “Sorry. Didn’t meant to pass out on you.”

 

“You barely snored,” Evan teases, and opens the box of pizza and Connor immediately reaches for a slice of pepperoni. 

 

“I have it on good authority that I don’t snore,” Cnnor says with a roll of his eyes before taking a bite of his slice. 

 

“You don’t,” Evan says good-naturedly, taking a piece with green peppers on it. “Actually, it’s a little creepy how quiet and still you are when you sleep, oh my god.”

 

“Zoe always used to say I slept like a corpse,” Connor says conversationally between mouthfuls of delicious melted cheese. “Always thought that one day I should, like, do the arm crossing thing and really freak her out.” Evan gives him a look and Connor immediately winces. “Sorry, bad taste.” He offers a sheepish smile, then kind of bumps Evan with his shoulder. “Anyway, how’s your day been?”

 

“Not bad,” Evan says with a shrug, before finishing his slice of pizza and going for another one. “I actually finished at five o’clock today, for the first time in… the first time. How about you? Any interesting customers?”

 

“Well, this one guy came in right before closing,” says Connor with a smirk as he goes for another slice. “He kissed me and grabbed my junk.”

 

Evan grins. “Did he at least buy a book?”

 

Connor grins back. “He didn’t even have the decency to buy a book. Can you believe it?” Evan’s definitely blushing now, and Connor’s not about to let up on the teasing. “So I’ve got to hear about this whole five o’clock finishing thing. What on earth did you do for those three hours? Besides think about fucking me, that is.”

 

To his credit, Evan manages to finish his slice of pizza before responding. “Actually, I went out for a drink with some of my workmates,” he says conversationally. “There’s this bar that’s apparently their usual, and it’s usually kind of okay but tonight it was just crowded. Completely and utterly packed. You could barely hear yourself think.”

 

“Bars are notoriously places one goes to think deep thoughts,” Connor says with a nod, grabbing another slice of pizza. 

 

“Obviously,” says Evan with a laugh. “Pretty sure someone will come up with the cure for cancer in a bar.”

 

“That is exactly how science works,” Connor agrees, and they both laugh and eat in silence for a little while. 

 

It doesn’t take them long until the pizza box is empty, and there’s something crackling in the air, just a little.

 

Connor gets the feeling that Evan isn’t done with him yet. 

 

“So you went home and got changed and came to jump me at work,” Connor says as he finishes his last slice of pizza. “As you do.”

 

Evan grins, and ducks his head like he’s embarrassed. “In my defence,” he says, cheeks turning pink, “it has been really, really cold. Like, super cold. I really just wanted to get warm.”

 

“Did you?” says Connor with a smirk. He looks Evan straight in eye. “And how’s your temperature now?”

 

Evan’s eyes darken and he bites his lip. It’s extremely distracting. 

 

“I could use some warming up,” says Evan, his voice low. 

 

Connor picks up the pizza box and throws it to the floor, then climbs on top of Evan and straddles him with a wicked grin. “It may seem counterproductive,” he says as he starts working off Evan’s shirt, “but I’ll be able to warm you up better if you take your clothes off.”

 

“Something about body heat,” Evan says with a smirk, and it doesn’t take long before Connor’s managed to get all of Evan’s clothes off. 

 

Before Evan can do anything sneaky, Connor works his way down Evan’s body and takes his cock in his mouth, as deep as he can go, and Evan lets out a gasp and starts playing with Connor’s hair and Connor likes that a lot. He focuses all his attention on Evan, on the noises he’s making, the little gasps and moans, and tries to elicit more of them, focuses everything he has on making Evan react. 

 

“Fuck, Connor,” Evan groans, and tightens his grip on Connor’s hair, and Connor gasps a little around Evan’s cock but refocuses, refusing to be distracted from his mission, and Evan’s moans get louder and louder and he’s gasping and swearing and moaning his name and just when Connor thinks Evan’s about to come, he pulls away. Evan lets out a growl, and pulls Connor in for a kiss. “Dirty trick,” he mutters in his ear. 

 

“I learned from the best,” Connor replies, and then Evan is reaching down where he’s still slick with lube from last time to finger him, and oh god, Connor’s probably playing with fire with here but that’s never a bad move in a cold snap. 

 

“Sounds like you need to get fucked again,” Evan says, working his fingers in deeper as Connor moans. 

 

“Yes,” Connor gasps, and Evan laughs a little, then kisses him hard, then leans over him to reach into Connor’s bedside table and rummages around for a while. 

 

A long while. 

 

Connor sits up, and Evan moves back and looks at him, a little sheepish. “So, fun fact,” Evan begins. “Turns out you’re out of condoms.”

 

Connor blinks. “Really?” He leans over to properly look in his bedside cabinet, rummaging around a little more, and find that Evan’s right. “Wow, yeah.” He picks up the lube and realizes that it’s a little light as well. “Almost out of lube, too.” He grins at Evan. “We have clearly been doing a lot of fucking for warmth.”

 

“It’s the eco-friendly alternative,” Evan replies instantly. He looks a little disappointed, and Connor takes the opportunity to pull him down onto the mattress, pin him down and wrap his hand around Evan’s cock. 

 

“Guess I’ll just have to get you off another way,” Connor says with a smirk, and Evan’s pupils are blown and he bites his lip and Connor goes back to blowing Evan, looking up at him as he does, never breaking eye contact, and Evan’s clearly holding himself back, clearly making Connor work for it, but Connor’s up for the challenge and sure enough, soon Evan’s coming and Connor swallows him down and watches as he moans and gasps and keeps his mouth wrapped around Evan’s cock until Evan’s finally finished.

 

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then moves to sit against the headboard and turns to Evan, maintaining eye contact. Evan watches him with interest. 

 

“Can I touch myself now?” Connor asks with a smirk, and Evan grins, and Connor takes that as a yes, then begins to stroke his cock, never taking his eyes off Evan. 

 

“Fuck,” Evan says, in this low, awe-filled tone, and Connor smirks and focuses on putting on a good show. 

 

He reaches around to finger himself, gasping a little at the sensation, and strokes his cock, and notes that Evan can’t take his eyes off him, that he’s completely transfixed. Connor bites his lip, moans a little and then smirks at Evan. “Like what you see?”

 

Evan barely blinks. “Yes,” he says, his voice almost hungry. “You look so hot like this, fuck.”

 

“Good,” Connor manages to growl out, and he starts moving faster, never taking his eyes off Evan, whose eyes are dark and wide and Connor focuses on making himself come, on putting on a good show for Evan, and he bites his lip again and moans and he can almost feel the heat of Evan’s gaze on his skin, and as he licks his lips he can taste salt and then almost out of nowhere, completely without warning, he’s coming hard and fast and moaning Evan’s name. 

 

He leans his head back against the headboard and closes his eyes, and only opens it when Evan hands him the washcloth to clean himself up. 

 

“Fuck, that was hot,” Evan says, sounding a little breathless. He’s still looking at Connor intensely. 

 

Connor smiles at him. “When we run out of condoms, we improvise.”

 

The intensity of Evan’s gaze never wavers. “We could go get more.”

 

“You wanna fuck me again, don’t you?” Connor half-teases, and Evan’s eyes get even darker. 

 

“There’s that pharmacy not that far,” Evan points out. 

 

And Connor knows that he’s already come twice tonight, but he can’t pass up an offer like that. 

 

“I guess we’d better get dressed.”

 

Barely five minutes later they’re bundled up in jackets and scarves and hats, heading into the cold, walking quickly side by side as the snow falls thicker and faster. 

 

“I thought it was closer,” Evan grumbles as they turn the corner. 

 

“You just have short legs,” Connor replies with a smirk, and Evan picks up the pace in retaliation until they’re both practically jogging. 

 

The pharmacy is warmer than outside, which is a relief, and Evan’s heading straight for the condoms, his cheeks pinker than can be attributed to the cold, and Connor’s pretty sure he just wants to get in and out as quickly as possible. Connor follows him, and makes an executive decision and just picks up the brands he recognizes, then heads toward the confectionary aisle and picks up some peanut butter cups, then some Sour Patch Kids, and finally some M&Ms. He turns to Evan. “Want anything?”

 

Evan picks up a Kit-Kat, then adds it to Connor’s pile of candy, pulls out his wallet and hands Connor a $20 bill. Or at least tries to. Connor just looks at him and shakes his head with a smile. 

 

Evan sighs. “Come on.” 

 

“I got this,” Connor says, rolling his eyes, and promptly heads over to the counter to deposit the pile of candy, condoms and lube and looks straight at the guy behind the counter, who’s kind of smirking at them like he knows exactly what their evening is going to involve. Evan goes even pinker, and Connor kind of wants to tell the guy behind the counter to stop smirking. Instead, he turns to Evan. “Did you bring a bag?”

 

Evan pulls a canvas bag out of his pocket. 

 

He also takes the opportunity to put the $20 bill on the counter, and then pulls out another one from his wallet when the total comes to more. The guy behind the counter processes the transaction before Connor can protest and Evan grins triumphantly. “Cheater,” Connor says with a roll of his eyes, and they take their purchases and head out into the cold of the night a little reluctantly. 

 

Now that they’ve got more condoms and lube, Connor’s having a hard time not thinking about how much he wants to fuck Evan. 

 

Like, really really really wants to fuck Evan. 

 

He’d just kind of assumed that it was completely off the table, that it wasn’t something Evan was interested in, and that was fine, that was completely okay. Connor’s never minded whether he tops or bottoms when he’s having sex, he’s good either way, but with Evan, he’s only ever bottomed. 

 

Evan’s blown his mind every fucking time, so it’s not like he’s complaining. 

 

But he’d really, really like to fuck Evan. He’s been thinking about it ever since Evan said at Christmas that he’d let Connor if Connor asked nicely, about how good he’d look, about how good he’d feel. 

 

It takes less time to get back to the bookstore, it seems, and once they get back upstairs to Connor’s bedroom, Evan fixes Connor with this dark, demanding look. 

 

“I let you come earlier,” Evan says, voice husky, “and you said you’d be good for me.”

 

Connor swallows hard. “I’ll be good,” he promises, and it looks like Evan’s still feeling bossy so it’s probably not the time to ask if he can fuck him. 

 

Instead, he drops to his knees and starts undoing the fly of Evan’s jeans, then pulls down his jeans and his boxers and takes Evan’s already hard cock in his mouth, looking up at Evan who’s looking very pleased with himself. Evan tugs at Connor’s hair a little, urging him closer, and Connor takes Evan’s cock deeper in his mouth, and Evan groans, long and loud. Encouraged, Connor keeps going, enjoying the feel of Evan’s cock in his mouth and his hand his his hair. 

 

“You’re so good at his,” Evan moans, gasping a little. “Fuck, you are so, so good at this, fucking hell. Keep - fuck,  _ Connor  _ \- keep going, you’re so good.”

 

Connor’s getting harder by the minute, cock straining against his jeans as he kneels and blows Evan, because he just fucking loves the sounds Evan’s making, loves knowing how hot he’s getting him, and Evan’s moans get longer and louder and then Evan pulls hard at his hair and Connor takes the hint and pulls away. “Have I been good enough that you’ll fuck me again?” he asks, smirking at Evan. 

 

Evan’s eyes are practically burning him. “I think you definitely need fucking,” he says, and he pulls Connor to his feet then throws him on the bed. “Take off your clothes.”

 

Connor hurries to comply, getting completely naked as quickly as he can, and Evan’s getting naked, too, and then Evan’s getting the box of condoms out of the bag, and reaching over to get the nearly empty bottle of lube from Connor’s bedside table, and he practically lunges at Connor, kissing him hot and wet and deep and Connor can’t help it, he has to touch Evan, he reaches down and takes his hard cock in his hand and strokes it gently and Evan gasps. 

 

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Connor says breathlessly, and then Evan’s using the last of the lube to get his fingers nice and slick and before Connor can even really process, Evan’s fingers are working inside him, pressing against his prostate repeatedly and sending shockwaves of pleasure all the way through him. “Fuck fuck fuck Evan, holy  _ shit. _ ”

 

“You like that?” Evan says, his voice rough. “You moan so nicely for me, fuck.”

 

“Yes,” Connor manages to gasp out. “Evan, oh my god.”

 

“You have been very good tonight,” Evan says approvingly. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Ask me nicely.”

 

“Please,” Connor says immediately, and fuck he’s never considered himself as someone with a submissive streak before but there’s something about Evan bossing him around like this that really, really, really works for him. Maybe it’s the fact that the Evan he remembers from high school was this quiet, meek creature who barely spoke, who was anxious and shy and apologized if you ran into  _ him _ . There’s something insanely hot about seeing this other side of Evan, sexy and confident and demanding, and realizing that it must have been there the whole time, must have been right under the surface, but it isn’t something he shows to just  _ anyone.  _

 

Seeing Evan like this makes Connor feel like he’s found buried treasure, like he’s uncovered something incredible and precious, like he’s in on a secret. 

 

“Please fuck me,” Connor continues, knowing that he’s begging but not caring at all. 

 

Evan grins and pulls out his fingers, then puts on a condom, watching Connor as he does it, taking his sweet time, and by the time Evan finally fucks Connor, Connor can barely think, he’s so turned on. 

 

Evan fucks him hard and fast, pressing hard kisses against his neck, running his teeth along Connor’s collarbone, and Connor’s absolutely sure he’s going to end up covered in hickies and that just makes it hotter, makes him feel like Evan’s claiming him somehow. Evan keeps going, setting a relentless pace, and he’s moaning in Connor’s ear, telling him how good he feels, how good he’s been, and tells Connor that he’s allowed to stroke himself, and Connor immediately takes his own cock in his hand and it’s not long before Evan’s coming hard and Connor’s coming too and they collapse into a sticky, sweaty pile, both gasping for breath.

 

After a moment, Evan disposes of the condom, then lies back down on the bed, and he’s still kind of breathless, still a little shaky, and Connor finds himself almost unconsciously slinging an arm around Evan. It takes him a second to remember that Evan’s not a cuddler. 

 

“Shit, sorry,” Connor mumbles, and he goes to move his hand, but before he can, Evan murmurs that it’s okay, so he stays where he is. 

 

Moments later, he finds himself drifting off to sleep. 

 

* * *

 

Connor had fallen asleep, his arm thrown across Evan’s waist, his head resting against Evan’s shoulder, his breathing deep and even and Evan’s heart squeezed almost painfully. Fuck. God. Fuck. He was so beautiful. And Evan was so stupidly in love, and he should have snuck away, he should get up and go home. 

But Connor was warm against him and his hair was sort of a mess and Evan wanted to press a kiss to the top of his head, wanted to pull Connor in closer and just sleep. 

And he waited so long to get up and move that he ended up falling asleep. 

He woke up with a start somewhere around sunrise, his arm slung over Connor’s naked hips, his head buried in Connor’s neck. 

Fuck. 

Evan should pull away. He moved his hand, pulled his head away, started to pull away when Connor opened his eyes. “What?” he mumbled, his eyes half lidded and sleepy. 

“Sorry,” Evan said. “I passed out, sorry, I should go -”

“Don’t, it’s cold,” Connor said, and then he was pulling Evan in for a kiss and Evan should pull away. Fuck buddies didn’t have sleepy, early morning sex, but Connor’s kiss made a much more compelling argument than Evan’s brain, especially when his hand curled in Evan’s hair and he tugged a bit. “You’re hot,” Connor said, kissing Evan’s neck. 

“Fuck, Connor,” Evan groaned because Connor’s hands were traveling up and down his chest, and Evan couldn’t help himself, he reached down and discovered that Connor was rock hard already and fuck fuck fuck. Evan had to touch him, he couldn’t help himself, he was helpless in the face of Connor’s body, his long limbs and hard dick and messy hair. “Fuck,” Evan said to himself, and he rolled Connor onto his back, kissing his neck, then his collarbone and Connor gasped when he bit down lightly. He kept traveling down, sucking and biting Connor’s left nipple, then right and Connor moaned as Evan kissed his stomach, letting his fingers trace over Connor’s rib cage. 

“Fuck,” Connor said, and he was slumped against the pillows and his head was thrown back and he was groaning as Evan took the tip of Connor’s cock into his mouth, his tongue running over the slit and his lips wrapping around the head and Connor groaned, his hips bucking a little. “Fuck, fuck your mouth, Evan-”

Evan used his hand to replace his mouth, stroking Connor so he could speak. “What do you want?” He asked, his other hand gently cupping Connor’s balls, his fingers grazing Connor’s perineum, and Connor’s hips bucked again. “Fuck, Connor, tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” He gasped. “Fuck, Evan, please.”

“Gladly,” Evan said, and he sat up a little so he could grab a condom and the new bottle of lube. Evan poured some lube on his fingers, kissing Connor’s neck as he pressed one finger against Connor’s hole, slowly pressed his finger inside. Connor was still a bit slick from their fuckfest last night, but Evan still took his time, slowly stretching Connor open again. 

“Fuck, Evan, fuck,” Connor said, his voice rough, his head thrown back, and Evan pulled him in for a kiss, he tasted like salt, sweat was collecting on Connor’s upper lip and hairline and he was so hot. 

“Are you sore from earlier?”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “But I like it. Fuck. It’s like I can still feel you inside me, fuck-”

Evan smiled, kissing Connor again. “You warm enough?” Evan joked. 

“Fuck, yes, Evan,” Connor panted. “Please, please.”

Evan smiled a little. “You’re hot like this.”

“So are you,” Connor said as Evan’s fingers fucked Connor harder. “Fuck, Evan, your fingers fuck.” Evan could see Connor was painfully turned on, his cock leaking a little, precome collecting at the tip of his cock, and holy fuck that was so hot, Connor was so gorgeous and he groaned, kissing Connor again. 

“Are you getting off on just my fingers?” He asked, surprised. “Fuck.”

“Please fuck me,” Connor groaned, “I… please, fuck, I need you to -”

Evan nodded, pulling his fingers away and Connor whimpered and fuck that was distracting, Evan almost considered saying fuck it and seeing if he could finger Connor until he came but then his own cock throbbed and he was not patient enough for that this morning. He ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth and Connor groaned, mumbling that it was hot when Evan did that and  _ Fuck _ , Evan could hardly wait. He put the condom on, grabbing Connor’s hips roughly and Connor gasped and Evan stopped for a moment to grab a pillow and place it under Connor’s hips, raising him up a little. Connor groaned and then Evan settled between Connor’s legs, nudging them apart, and pushing himself inside Connor in one slow, fluid motion. 

“Fuck,” Connor gasped, his eyes going big. “Fuck. Fucking hell, Evan, you feel so good fuck.” His back arched and Evan kissed Connor’s neck, his cheek, his ear, telling Connor how good he felt, how tight he was, how hot he was and Connor was clearly getting off on it. He rolled his hips to match Evan’s thrusts and Evan kissed him again. “Can I…?” Connor panted. “Can I touch myself?”

“No,” Evan said because he wanted to do it, he put his hand on Connor’s hard cock and started to stroke him and Evan was determined to get him off, he was determined to make Connor come and Connor was moaning, his head thrown back helplessly, murmuring senselessly. “You look so good like this, Connor, you look so fucking -”

Beautiful. 

Stunning. 

Gorgeous. 

“Fuck, Evan,  _ Evan _ , fuck-”

“God you’re amazing,” Evan groaned, thrusting harder, deeper, making Connor gasp. “Fuck you’re… I l-” Evan kissed Connor before he could say something he would regret. Not here, not now, not like this. 

“Fuck,” Connor whined and then he was coming, his muscles tightening around Evan’s cock, his come hitting his chest and Evan’s and then Evan finally let go, keeping his mouth attached to Connor’s neck, marking him, and making sure he didn’t say something stupid. 

Evan rolled off of Connor to dispose of the condom and catch his breath. “Nice job on the sex,” Evan mumbled. “High five?”

“Yeah,” Connor said, slapping his hand to Evan’s. He grabbed the washcloth abandoned on the nightstand from last night and wiped his come off of his chest and stomach before handing it to Evan who did the same. Connor stretched, sitting up, and yawned. “You want breakfast? I think I’ve got some turkey bacon.”

“I should probably go,” Evan said awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep over -”

“Evan don’t worry about it,” Connor said, and he was pulling on his boxers and a t-shirt. “Come on, I bet you’re starving.”

He was. Evan was starving. “Okay.”

He pulled on his own clothes and followed Connor into the kitchen. Connor turned on the kettle and then pulled some eggs and bacon out of his fridge. “Scrambled eggs good with you?”

“Yeah,” Evan said smiling awkwardly, grabbing a seat at Connor’s kitchen table. Connor scrambled some eggs and then started brewing the coffee. Evan thought he looked especially adorable in the kitchen in his boxers. He had tied his hair up into a loose, messy bun. Evan had left a mark on the side of Connor’s neck and Evan wanted to kiss it, wanted to make out with Connor in the kitchen while Connor cooked them breakfast and fuck fuck fuck he was so pathetically in love. 

He needed to get out of here before Connor did something else that -

“Here,” Connor said, passing him a mug of coffee. He went into the fridge and pulled out a carton of almond milk, setting it in front of Evan and fuck fuck fuck. 

“I-” Evan started, shutting his mouth. “You got almond milk?”

“Yeah,” Connor said like it was no big deal. “You take it in your coffee.”

“Thanks,” Evan said softly. 

He was so beyond screwed. 


	12. February (One Year After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Death-a-Versary.

February is cold and wet and gray, and there’s an insistent voice at the back of Connor’s mind that keeps reminding him that it’s almost been a year.

 

A year since he died and died and died.

 

A year since he and Evan died and died and died.

 

Evan’s busy, it seems. Really busy. He’s throwing himself into his work, which Connor can understand but also makes him worry, because Evan works too hard at the best of the times and Connor knows that his friend is feeling the tension, too.

 

The uneasy, weird tension as Connor’s birthday draws closer, marking a year since the impossible happened, over and over again.

 

Connor brings Evan lunch as often as he can, but things are busy on his end, too. Gladys decides it’s finally time to step back from The Little Book Nook completely, which means that Connor now has full control of all operations, and everything that entails.

 

The process has been gradual and well planned out, so he’s not totally overwhelmed, but it’s still more to do, more to get done, and it sits strangely alongside this undercurrent of fear and anxiety that’s had a hold of him since the month began.

 

Gladys calls a full staff meeting the second Friday of February at 9.30am before opening. The second Friday of February just happens to be Valentine’s Day, and Garrett spends the first full five minutes complaining because his boyfriend had made him breakfast in bed and he’d had to rush through it so he could get to work early for a staff meeting. It didn’t stop him from eating three of the jelly-filled donuts Gladys had brought in, though, while complaining that Ashton didn’t know how to cook bacon properly.

 

Connor’s immediately pissed off, because Ashton is a nice guy who deserves better than an asshole like Garrett and he’d wanted a jelly-filled donut, dammit.

 

Leslie’s there, despite having a horrible winter cold, and she’s all wrapped in a jacket and a scarf and honestly looks exhausted, and tells Connor miserably that the heat in her apartment is out and she hasn’t been able to sleep properly. She isn’t even rostered on for Fridays, so the fact that she’s come in is admirable, and Connor’s hit with a rush of affection for her.

 

At least he can count on Leslie, he thinks. Especially since he knows what this staff meeting is about.

 

“I’ll keep it brief,” says Gladys, her tone matter-of-fact and business-like despite the fact that she has powdered sugar on her nose. “As of today, I am officially stepping down from all of my duties here at The Little Book Nook. From now on, Connor’s in charge.” She looks around the room and Connor does, too. Garrett’s stony-faced and Leslie’s smiling at him, even though she looks miserable. “Realistically,” Gladys continues, “it won’t change much in terms of the day to day running of the place. Connor’s been managing since March, this isn’t a big change. But it does mean that if you have any questions or concerns, you go to Connor. Not to me. I am, for all intents and purposes, retired.”

 

Gladys is definitely looking at Garrett when she says that. He doesn’t look particularly pleased, but he’s not exactly making a scene about it, which is good, because Connor doesn’t think Gladys should have to deal with that. Leslie just nods and smiles and her eyes are a little glazed over and Connor is more than slightly concerned that she’s going back to a freezing apartment.

 

“Connor, anything to add?”

 

“Just that I’m happy to talk about any questions or concerns,” Connor says, making deliberate eye contact with Garrett. “Like Gladys said, not a big change in terms of day to day - but please do make sure to let me know if you can’t make a shift or you’re going to be late. One of the bonuses of living above the store is that I can always come down and help out if need be.”

 

Garrett ever so subtly rolls his eyes and Connor tries not to sigh in irritation. Instead, he calls the meeting to a close, asks Garrett to get ready to open the store and takes Leslie aside, who is barely managing to stay upright at this stage.

 

“There’s no heat at your place?” Connor says, frowning a little. “That’s… not great. You seem pretty miserable.”

 

“I am,” Leslie confesses, shuddering a bit. But she smiles at Connor anyway. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine for tomorrow.”

 

“Not if you’re going back to a cold apartment in the middle of winter,” Connor says frankly.

 

“Don’t really have any other option,” Leslie points out.

 

Connor rolls his eyes. “Bullshit you don’t. Give me like, five minutes to change the sheets and put the heater on and you can crash upstairs.”

 

Leslie blinks a few times. “Wait, seriously?”

 

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” Connor says with a shrug. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Honestly I’m not even sure you’d get back to your apartment in one piece. Considering you came all the way out for a staff meeting on a day you didn’t even have to work, I’d say it’s the least I can do.”

 

Leslie looks like she might actually be close to tears. “Thank you,” she says, her voice wavering a little. “It’s just been so cold and I haven’t been able to sleep. A nap would be amazing.”

 

“I’ll have Martha make you some soup,” says Gladys, who Connor hadn’t even realized was standing behind him. “I’m heading home now but I’ll pop back with some soup for you later today, Leslie dear, you poor thing.”

 

With that, Gladys heads out, and Connor helps Leslie up the stairs, deposits her on the sofa, then turns on the heater in his room, does a quick tidy up then changes the sheets. Once he’s satisfied it’s ready, he ushers Leslie into the bedroom.

 

It’s a little weird, sure, but at least he knows she’s getting some rest and isn’t freezing to death.

 

When Connor gets back to the store, Garrett’s still going through the motions of opening up at a snail’s pace, so Connor jumps in and makes sure everything’s ready to go. Fortunately for everyone involved, there are customers almost immediately, and it keeps the day from being too awkward.

 

Garrett announces he’s taking his lunch break at half past twelve and heads off before Connor has a chance to ask if he could wait another ten minutes due to the line at the counter, which pisses him off, but he soldiers on and keeps going, making sure to ring up customers as quickly and politely as he can. Garrett’s not back until nearly 2, and that’s when Connor knows he’s expecting stock to arrive, so he can’t stop for a break until nearly 3.30pm when Gladys arrives with a crock pot full of soup, which she heads upstairs to plug in for Leslie.

 

Instead of taking a break like he desperately wants as soon as Gladys leaves, Connor decides he’s going to have to talk to Garrett when 4pm rolls around and the store is finally quiet.

 

“Hey Garrett,” he says, as politely as he can. “I need you to be a little more careful about timing for your breaks, okay? You were gone for nearly an hour and a half today.”

 

“Long line at the sushi place,” Garrett says bluntly. “Couldn’t help it.”

 

“Even so,” Connor continues, “it isn’t the first time this has happened. The same thing happened last week, and Leslie’s mentioned you’ve been taking longer lunch breaks as well.”

 

Garrett just looks at him for a moment and laughs.

 

Genuinely laughs in his face.

 

“This is such bullshit,” he says, sneering.

 

Connor is genuinely taken aback. “Excuse me?”

 

“You buying this bookstore is complete bullshit,” he continues, crossing his arms. “Like, what the fuck, it’s not even a little bit fair that you can just buy yourself a fucking bookstore, Jesus Christ.”

 

“I haven’t bought it yet,” Connor says, as patiently as he can, “and even if I wasn’t buying the store, Gladys asked me to come on as manager. I get that you don’t love the fact that I’m your boss, but I’m trying to be fair here. I just need you to pull your weight.”

 

“Ever since you became manager, you’ve acted like you’re better than me,” Garrett says, and he sounds genuinely pissed off now. “At least I didn’t buy my way into a promotion.”

 

“That is not what happened,” Connor says, feeling the hot burn of anger in his stomach mixing with the undercurrent of fear he’s been fighting all month. “Look, I get that maybe what Gladys said today was a surprise, but you knew it was coming. I’m not trying to act like I’m better than you, I’m just trying to keep this place running smoothly, okay?”

 

“I can’t take you fucking seriously as a manager. You’re a spoiled, entitled rich kid asshole who’s using your daddy’s money to buy your workplace so you can do whatever you want, that’s complete bullshit,” says Garrett, and he sneers at Connor some more then rolls his eyes. The bell over the door rings and Garrett raises his eyebrows at Connor, then turns and offers a smile to the customer who’s just arrived and Connor takes the opportunity to head upstairs for a moment and get himself under control, because…

 

Fuck.

 

He was not expecting that, _fuck._

 

He doesn’t know what to do. He’s never dealt with this before. Is he supposed to fire Garrett? Or, like, dock his pay or something? This isn’t something he expected to have to deal with and he’s just… lost. Completely lost.

 

The door to his room opens, and Leslie comes out, looking a lot healthier than she had when she arrived this morning. “Thank you so much,” she says, smiling at him. “That really helped.”

 

“Gladys brought soup,” Connor says, his voice a little shaky, and gestures to the slow cooker. Leslie stops in her tracks and looks at him.

 

“Are you okay?” she asks.

 

Connor nods. “I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

 

“A lot better,” she confesses. “I think I’ll be fine for tomorrow.” She tilts her head a little. “Is Garrett being Garrett?”

 

“Yeah,” Connor says, trying to laugh it off, like it’s a joke, even though he’s genuinely rattled. “He, uh… he’s being his charming self.”

 

“Great,” says Leslie with a roll of her eyes. Connor grabs her a bowl and a spoon and serves her up some soup and she sits at the table, still looking a little shaky on her feet.

 

Connor kind of sizes her up for a bit. “How long has the heating in your building been out?”

 

Leslie sighs. “Just the last day, but they can’t guarantee they’ll get someone in until Monday.”

 

“That is insane,” says Connor, frowning. “Like, they definitely can’t do that, right? It’s the middle of winter, that’s completely insane.”

 

Leslie shrugs. “Absolutely. People in the apartment are definitely complaining, so it might get done sooner, but… I just don’t have the energy to kick up a fuss. I’ll just pile up the blankets and hope my space heater does the trick. The place isn’t super well insulated, which is probably why it’s cheap… I need to move.” She sighs. “Same thing happened last winter.”

 

“Jesus,” Connor mutters. “Yeah, you definitely need to move.”

 

“It’s hard to find a place that allows dogs,” Leslie says matter-of-factly.

 

Connor blinks. “You have a dog?”

 

Leslie’s eyes light up. “Yeah, I have a basset hound named Strudel,” she says, her voice fond. “He’s awesome. He’s so chill. He helps keep me warm a little, but… still not great.”

 

“Dogs are awesome,” says Connor, because he always kind of wanted a dog as a kid, but was never allowed to have one. It’s not until recently that his mother told him that the reason they didn’t let him have one was because Larry was allergic, which he thinks someone probably should have told him at eight.

 

“Dogs are awesome,” Leslie agrees.

 

“This is probably weird,” Connor says, a little hesitantly, because he thinks he’s definitely overstepping, “but since you’re working tomorrow, do you want to go get Strudel and stay here overnight where it’s warm? Just so I know that you’re, you know, not freezing to death.”

 

Leslie just stares at him for a moment. “Are you serious? Connor, I can’t just take over your apartment.”

 

Connor shrugs. “I can sleep on the couch,” he says, because it’s really no big deal. “And I’m having a drink with Evan tonight after work so chances are I’ll crash at his place anyway. Seriously, you’re welcome to stay. It’ll give you a bit of time to sleep in before you start working tomorrow.”

 

Leslie stares for a bit longer then kind of laughs. “I want to say no on principle,” she confesses, “but honestly the idea of spending another night in my freezing apartment while I feel this shit is just… kind of horrifying. If you’re absolutely sure?”

 

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” Connor says matter-of-factly.

 

Leslie nods, looking a little dazed. “Yeah. Okay, yeah, I’ll… I’ll head home after I’ve had some soup, and then come back before you close.”

 

That having been settled, Connor heads back downstairs to see that Garrett is still talking to a customer, and he’s polite and friendly and charming and the customer seems to appreciate it and Connor kind of hates that when it comes to the customer-facing part of the job, Garrett is actually brilliant.

 

Connor does a bit of tidying up in the children’s area, then unpacks some new releases in the store room and sets up a display. He says hi to Leslie as she comes through the store and heads back out into the cold, then finishes the display and then it’s time for Garrett’s shift to end.

 

“Are you going to be alright for Sunday?” Connor asks him before he leaves, not really knowing how to address the fact that this guy is a total asshole.

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Garrett says, his voice challenging, and Connor just nods and tells him to have a good night, even though he wants to punch him.

 

Around 7, Leslie shows up with an adorable basset hound and Connor lets himself have a moment to say hi to the dog and gives Leslie a spare set of keys so she can come and go as she pleases while she’s staying. Leslie looks more than a little taken aback and she keeps thanking him and apologizing for being sick and Connor is honestly just grateful that at least one of his employees doesn’t hate his guts.

 

The last hour is slow and gives Connor plenty of time to stew in his own thoughts.

 

Fucking Garrett. What the fuck. Who the fuck does he think he is, saying that kind of shit? Connor is his boss, has been his boss for nearly a year now, all things considered.

 

Connor knows that if he spoke to Gladys like that, she’d have fired him in an instant.

 

Should he be firing Garrett?

 

He has no idea. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say and he’s just so fucking pissed off, because he’s worked hard and the whole management thing happened completely independently of buying the store, Gladys asked him about it multiple times before he finally said yes, before she even knew he was interested in buying the store, the whole thing is complete bullshit.

 

His first day as the official full time boss and this happens. Fuck.

 

He can’t just fire Garrett. But he doesn’t know what he should be doing about it, or if he should be doing something about it, or just ignoring it, but he really wants to fucking punch something right now.

 

By the time closing comes around, Connor’s basically a ball of barely contained anger, which he’s desperately trying to tamp down. He goes through the motions of closing the store and then heads upstairs to get his jacket and scarf and wallet before heading out to meet Evan for drinks.

 

Leslie’s sitting at the kitchen table in what looks like her pajamas, eating soup and reading a book, and Strudel’s sitting at her feet happily. She looks up when she sees Connor and smiles a little awkwardly.

 

“Is it okay if Strudel sleeps on the bed?” she asks. “Just wanted to check.”

 

“Go for it,” Connor says, trying to smile. “I’m assuming he’s house-trained, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to keep him in an apartment.”

 

“Oh, definitely,” Leslie assures him. “He’s a very good dog.”

 

“Let me just grab another blanket for the bed,” Connor says, and goes to get an older, less nice blanket to put on top of the bed so the dog isn’t on the new comforter his mom bought him for Christmas, even though that comforter has definitely seen some things considering how often he and Evan had sex in January.

 

Connor then takes a moment to properly tuck the restraints under the mattress and prays that Leslie hadn’t noticed.

 

“If I do come back tonight, I’ll be quiet,” Connor promises when he sees Leslie, before putting blankets and pillows on the sofa just in case. “And you can help yourself to tea and coffee and anything else in the pantry, honestly. I don’t have much but… at least you have soup, right?”

 

“This is so kind of you,” Leslie says, her voice warm and grateful. She’s still a little pale and definitely full of a cold but she doesn’t seem quite as sick as she was this morning, which Connor appreciates. “I really, really appreciate it.”

 

“No worries,” says Connor, who is still pissed off at Garrett and for some reason, is finding Leslie being so thankful and apologetic grating, even though he knows that Leslie is great and he’s genuinely doing her a favor.

 

It’s just…

 

He feels like her being so thankful and apologetic for something that’s objectively no big deal is just proof that he’s the fucking worst, because she’s surprised that he’s doing something nice, and it just makes him think about how everyone hated him in high school, how Garrett hates him and told him he didn’t deserve to be where he was, right to his face, and how he knows he’s an asshole but he kind of thought that maybe he was less of an asshole these days and maybe that was all in his head, and fuck.

 

Connor heads out, locks the front door and sets the alarm, then walks as quickly as he can to Tipsy’s where he’s meeting Evan for a drink. When he gets there, Evan’s at what’s become their regular booth, and he’s shredding a napkin, and Connor’s immediately concerned, because shredding a napkin means that Evan’s stressed, and normally Connor would drop everything to try to help Evan if he’s stressed, but today he’s barely keeping it together himself.

 

He offers Evan a smile, as genuine a smile as he can as he sits down, and Evan’s already ordered him a whisky, and he relaxes and takes a sip.

 

This is fine, he tells himself. It’s Evan, and Connor likes Evan. Evan is Connor’s favorite person in the world, and Connor just needs to fucking relax and get over it.

 

“How’s it going?” he asks Evan.

 

Evan shrugs. “Busy,” he says, nodding. “I’ve got some big cases coming up, so it’s a lot of work. I’m glad it’s the weekend, even though I know I’ll be checking my emails pretty regularly.”

 

“You work too hard,” Connor says, trying to sound sympathetic and not vaguely annoyed that Evan pushes himself so much, that Evan doesn’t rest enough, because he’s not mad at Evan, he’s just… mad, and it’s not fair to take this out on his friend.

 

Evan kind of laughs, like it’s a joke he’s heard before, and he’s drinking a martini and Connor wants to make a joke but he can’t quite put one together because there’s this stupid buzzing in his brain and he’s just…

 

Fuck. He should have just canceled on Evan.

 

He shouldn’t be around Evan when he’s on edge like this.

 

“What about you?” Evan asks. “How was your day?”

 

Connor nods like he’s trying to say it was fine, and Evan doesn’t look convinced, so he finally just sighs and tells the truth. “Honestly, it was shit,” he says matter-of-factly. “We had a staff meeting this morning where Gladys announced to Leslie and Garrett that she’s officially retired and that I’m completely in charge now.”

 

“That’s… good, though, right?” says Evan, who’s frowning, and Connor hates that he’s frowning.

 

“Garrett’s an asshole,” Connor says, and he know he sounds bitter. “He took an hour and a half lunch break, and Leslie’s told me he’s been doing that a lot when they work together, so I asked him to be more careful about timing for lunch, and he basically went off at me.”

 

Evan blinks. “What? What did he say?”

 

“He said that it’s bullshit that I’m his manager, that I bought my way into it, that buying my workplace was a bullshit spoiled rich kid move and that I act like I’m better than him,” Connor says in a rush. “That he can’t take me seriously as a manager because I bought my way into management. Which… fuck, Gladys asked me if I wanted to take a management role a bunch of times before she even knew I was interested in buying the place, it’s got nothing to do with it. I’m just… fuck, I’m so fucking pissed off about this, and I don’t know what to do because I can’t just fire him, I can’t fire someone on my first official day as the boss, Jesus fuck.”

 

“He said that?” Evan says, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Connor, I’m so sorry.”

 

Connor feels a little of the anger drain out of him. “I’m just… ugh. It’s not my fault that I have a trust fund. I didn’t ask for it.”

 

Evan bites his lip, then blinks a few times. “I mean, you’re in a pretty fortunate position,” Evan says, and his tone is… a little fucking pointed, actually. “Being able to buy your workplace, that’s not something everyone can do. I can see why someone who works with you could be a little pissed off by that.”

 

The anger that had previously drained out of him comes back, and it brings along some friends. “Right,” he says, as evenly as he can, because he’s not mad at Evan. He’s not.

 

“It’s just…” Evan begins, then takes a sip of his martini, then puts it down and continues. “What you’re doing is basically impossible for most people, you know? Especially at twenty-seven. Having the capital to buy a business and a building that includes an apartment? That’s… the only people who own property at twenty-seven are people with rich parents.”

 

“Sure,” says Connor, and downs his whisky in one go. He can feel his hands shaking. “Sure,” he says again, once he’s put the glass on table. “I know that. Doesn’t mean I bought my way into a management position, though.”

 

“That’s not what I said.”

 

“Sounded like you agree with Garrett,” Connor says sharply, trying to control the fact that his heart is beating way too quickly and he’s so fucking pissed off.

 

“I didn’t say that,” Evan replies, and he sounds annoyed. “I just said that he has a point about you buying the business.”

 

“So he’s right that me buying my workplace is a bullshit spoiled rich kid move?” Connor shoots back immediately.

 

“I didn’t say that! I just pointed out that-”

 

“You just pointed out that I’m only able to do this because my parents gave me a trust fund,” Connor interrupts. “Because it’s not like I did any work on my own. It’s not like the fact that I’m managing a business has anything to do with me-”

 

“You know as well as I do that you have a huge advantage,” Evan snaps. “You know that. It’s a huge advantage that other people don’t have and of course you’ve worked, but you didn’t work for your trust fund, it’s just there, you don’t know what it’s like to really struggle financially-”

 

“So because I don’t know what it’s like to struggle financially I don’t deserve to be running a business?”

 

“That’s not what I said!” Evan says, practically yelling now. “You keep twisting my words and that’s bullshit.”

 

“This whole conversation is bullshit,” Connor mutters, and stands up and puts his jacket back on. “Fuck you.”

 

Evan stands up as well and follows Connor out of the bar. “So what? You’re just going to run off and throw a tantrum about this? Great. Real mature.”

 

“Well, I’m a spoiled little rich kid,” Connor sneers as he hails a taxi to fuck knows where. “It’s what us spoiled little rich kids do.”

 

He gets into a taxi and it speeds off, leaving Evan behind on the sidewalk, and Connor doesn’t know where he’s going at first, he’s so mad, but after a few moments he shoots off a text to Margot, who replies immediately.

 

**Hey dude, you’re alive**

**Long time no see**

 

**You guys busy tonight?**

 

**Just staying in**

**Come over if you want**

**Eddie says bring pretzels**

 

Connor gives the taxi driver an address, puts his phone in his pocket and tries to get his breathing under control.

 

Fuck this.

 

Fuck everything.

 

* * *

 

Evan should have cancelled on Connor. He should have just stayed in tonight because it was a stupidly stressful week and he wasn’t prepared for Connor to have had a bad day too.

When he was leaving for work that morning the decorative mirror by the door was gone and Evan freaked out. Just. Freaked out, total meltdown, heart speeding, hyperventilating, the whole nine yards and Mattie found him in the fetal position just outside the door, trying to explain that the mirror was gone the mirror was fucking _gone_ and if it was gone Mattie might go soon too. It was happening again and the mirror was gone and any second he would respawn in the bathroom.

“Shit, was that yours? I thought it was something Charles left, I’m so sorry, I knocked it off the wall the other day and it broke, shit.”

“It broke?” Evan had rasped. “The mirror broke.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, are you superstitious?”

“It broke and you tossed it?” He needed to hear her say it.

“Yeah, I broke it and threw it away,” Mattie said, rubbing his arm slowly and Evan nodded and it took him awhile to calm down. And once he did, he headed back into his bedroom to change because he had sweated through his shirt. Once he was changed he was almost an hour late for work and so he took a cab and it took forever for him to get to the office and when he got there Mariah warned him that Jonathan was on the warpath and Evan managed to find himself on the end of a chain of screaming because Jonathan had lost a client to “that motherfucking McLaren” and somehow that was on Evan, and then he had a court appearance that only went half as well as he had hoped because the judge was a Republican asshole who didn’t believe in global warming or solar panels and then on his way out of the courthouse Evan spotted Alana Fucking Beck of all people.

“Evan Hansen!” She said, trotting up to him, because she trotted, Alana was the sort of person who traveled at a trot and she was smiling. “What are you doing here?”

“I -”

“I’m here on behalf of the community board,” Alana said, not waiting for Evan’s answer. “I was elected last March, did you know? I’m here to file a petition with the burough to install better street lighting because there have been a high number of pedestrian accidents, especially with city buses and I believe that inadequate lighting is the culprit-”

Alana talked his ear off for ten minutes, smiling in a way so unnervingly like her bus ad that Evan kept blinking, expecting to find himself in his bathroom, and being very surprised every time it didn’t happen.

The whole interaction left Evan so stressed out that he threw up in a garbage can on his way back to the office and couldn’t shake off the jittery, trembly post-vomit feeling all day.

Evan should have cancelled on Connor but he didn’t.

And then Connor came in, pissed off and in a spoiled little rich kid mood and Evan took it badly. He shouldn’t have but it just got right under his skin, Connor complaining that Garrett was angry about him buying the business and he snapped at Connor and then Connor was just gone.

Fuck.

Evan walked back to his apartment, stressed out and smoking and generally in a very sour mood. He felt like crap.

Mr. Abrahamson was checking his mail when Evan got there. “You look like hell,” He said to Evan.

“Yeah. One of those days.”

“You wanna come have some tea with me?” Mr. Abrahamson offered and fuck, that was so nice, but Evan would be shitty company.

“Thanks. Maybe next time. I’m in a mood.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Mr. Abrahamson said and Evan nodded wearily, heading up to his place and heading into his bedroom where he found a note from Alex that said, “We love you but can you stop smoking in your bedroom” and he just.

Lost it.

He crumbled the note up and chucked it in the bin and then threw a pillow across the room and collapsed onto his bed.

He knew what was wrong and he couldn’t tell anyone.

But Connor.

But Connor was being an asshole and.

It would be a year in two weeks. A year since he had woken up and taken the bar and threw himself off a roof only to find himself in his bathroom a second later.

And it was a lot to deal with. And he could do therapy and take pills all he wanted but it wasn’t going to make things any less stressful because last year he had died twenty times and had no idea why that happened. It would change the fact that last year he had killed himself, like actually killed himself, only to wake up seconds later.

Fuck.

Evan pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Connor, _“I’m really sorry about earlier. I was in a bad mood but I shouldn’t have snapped at you. This whole anniversary thing is kind of freaking me out. Will you just let me know if you got where you were going okay?”_

He didn’t hear back from Connor that night.

Or the next morning.

Evan’s phone was half dead by noon because he kept checking and rechecking it.

Okay so Connor was pissed. He could handle that. He could understand if Connor was angry at him. Evan _had_ been sort of an asshole. Ugh why had he tried to reason with Connor when he obviously just wanted to complain? That was one of Evan’s pet peeves, yet he had turned around and done that exact thing to Connor.

Fuck.

At three o’clock, Evan’s slight worry had morphed into a full on panic. Why wasn’t Connor texting him back? Was he that angry? Was he hurt, was he in trouble, was he okay? Had something else happened, had Garrett done something, what the fuck was going on? Was he hurt, was he bleeding, was he dead?

He needed to just. Make sure Connor wasn’t dead because last year Evan had watched Connor die and he was terrified that Connor was hurt or dying or dead somewhere and he couldn’t deal with it.

So he called Connor.

And it went right to voicemail.

And he tried again and it went to voicemail again and he tried another time, voicemail, and he even left a message saying, “Not to be a drama queen, but I’m starting to get really worried. Will you just let me know if you’re okay?”

But when he hadn’t heard back by five, Evan couldn’t take it anymore so he walked to The Little Book Nook. He smoked on the whole walk over, obsessively, finishing the cigarette so fast he almost made himself sick.

Fuck.

When he got to the store, Evan took a few calming breaths, trying to reason with himself. Connor was hungover and his phone was off. Connor was just taking a little space. Connor was fine Connor had to be fine because if Connor was dead then Evan would be dead, right, that’s how it worked, right?

Leslie looked surprised to see him when he walked up to her in the travel section. “Hey,” She said, and she sounded sort of congested. “I thought Connor said he was staying with you this weekend?”

  
“What?” Evan said, surprised. “He’s not with me. I came here to talk to him.”

 “Yeah, he… he said I could stay in his apartment because I’m sick.” Leslie looked concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, but he was lying so he tried again. “Well. I don’t know. If you see him will you please ask him to call me? We had… It was stupid, but we had an argument and I’m just. I wanted to apologize.”

Leslie nodded sympathetically. “I’ll let him know if he turns up. I’m sorry, dude.”

“It’s fine,” Evan said shrugging. “Thanks for your help though.”

It was not fine. Evan was freaking out. He didn’t know what his move here was. Did he text Zoe or Andi and ask if they’d seen him? How did he explain that it was really really important that he talk to Connor without blowing the lid off of the whole “oh yeah last year we died a lot” thing? Fuck fuck, was Connor really this angry with him? He was just irritated, he didn’t meant to piss Connor off, this wasn’t even the worst fight they’d had…

Evan stopped on his way back to his apartment to buy more cigarettes, planning to go to his bedroom and.

Well apparently he couldn’t fucking do that either. _Fuck._

Evan didn’t like smoking in front of the building because there was too much foot traffic, like the girl with the blue hair and the white fluffy dog walked by a lot and Mr. Abrahamson was always coming and going and the neighbors were weirdly friendly in this building and.

Evan could go to the roof he supposed.

Though he hadn’t been up there since last year…

Evan was pissed off and worried sick but he wasn’t about to jump off the roof tonight so he figured he was safe to smoke up there. He took the elevator, because it really was too long of a walk. It was actually sort of nice up here, Evan realized. He hadn’t paid it too much attention the other few times he had visited. There was a whole patio set up and everything. He didn’t dare walk anywhere near the edge though, that was too much, so he stuck to a bench near the middle, lighting up and exhaling and feeling… pretty fucking stupid.

Connor was just angry with him. He was angry because Evan had been an unsympathetic jerk and he’d been rude and he’d taken his shitty day out on Connor when he’d already had a shitty day. He had wanted to tell Connor about the mirror breaking and the panic and his bad day and Alana Beck but instead he had jumped down his throat, defending Garrett. And Garrett was a dickhead, he didn’t want to defend _Garrett._  He wanted Connor to know he had his back and he’d demonstrated that by being the worst, most selfish sort of a friend.

He was the worst.

He finished his cigarette and looked up. The sky was cloudy but you could never see the stars from here anyway. The city lights blurred them out.

That had been his last thought that first time. When he jumped. That he couldn’t see any stars, that the glow of the city blurred them all out.

Evan felt a bit like he was being blurred out here. The one person who had kept him grounded in reality wasn’t speaking to him and it was his own fucking fault. He could fret and worry but he couldn’t take back what he said and Evan always fucking did this. He always pushed people away from him when he meant to hang on tighter, meant to ask them to help.

He had hoped Connor might understand. The paranoia, the fear, the unknown about whether or not this death thing was going to be an annual thing. What if he woke up and was in his bathroom again, in that world where Connor didn’t know him? Evan didn’t know if he could survive that again. He couldn’t do it over again and the fact that it might be possible, as impossible as it was, was hanging like a sword over him. Eating him alive. How could he be expected to just live and work and go about his life if he might die and repeat the same day again? If he wasn’t sure why he had ever done that in the first place?

Evan bit his cuticles to bleeding. He’d smoked two cigarettes down to the filter. He wanted a drink, but didn’t let himself go inside and have one or twelve or twenty.

He tried to text Connor again, knowing it was futile, but stubbornly holding on to the one thing he knew how to do. _“Please just let me know if you’re okay. I’m really sorry. I was an asshole. Please just text me back.”_

Evan went back inside. He had that cup of tea with Mr. Abrahamson, to prove to himself that he was real and someone else could see him, could talk to him. Mr. Abrahamson seemed delighted to have the company, even if Evan was bad company. He talked too little, then too much, he fidgeted and stumbled over his words, and he couldn’t make himself stay terribly long. But he felt less imaginary after that cup of tea. He felt like maybe he wasn’t on a precipice, in danger of sliding off of the world, out of the universe.

Evan went to sleep early that night because sleep was the only thing he could come up with to do where he might not worry so much about Connor.    

* * *

 

Connor wakes up feeling like he’s been hit by a bus with Alana Beck’s face on it.

 

Well, not exactly like it. That actually happened and he knows how that feels, exactly how that feels, and this isn’t quite as bad but it’s pretty fucking close.

 

He sits up and tries to figure out where he is. It takes him a minute to get his bearings, but eventually he spots Eddie and Margot spooning next to him and there are mattresses and blankets everywhere and there’s a screensaver with bubbles on it on the TV screen.

 

Connor’s still not sure what’s going on. He reaches into his pocket for his phone to find that it’s completely dead, and he didn’t bring a charger, so he has no idea what time it is. It’s kind of dark, but also kind of not - that weird, grey space where day meets night, and he can’t tell if it’s the morning or the evening at this stage.

 

There’s something weird and itchy on his hip. He reaches down to find there’s a chocolate covered pretzel stuck to him.

 

Gross.

 

He takes in his surroundings and starts to piece things together. Empty pizza boxes. A mirror with traces of white powder. Half empty mugs. A bag of marshmallows spilling out over Eddie’s feet.

 

Margot stirs next to him and sits up, hair everywhere. She blinks a few times, then stands up, and Connor can see she’s not wearing any pants. “Coffee?” she says, her voice raspy, and Connor nods and follows her into the kitchen.

 

It’s been over a year since he’s been in Margot and Eddie’s apartment, and nothing much has changed, really. It’s still small and cramped and smells like weed. Margot’s a lesbian and Eddie’s nonbinary and asexual, but they share a bedroom and there have been many times where Connor’s crashed here since college and the two of them have just shared a bed and Connor’s taken the other one.

 

“So why did you come over again?” Margot asks, kind of vaguely, as she fills the kettle up with water. “I think you told me yesterday but I can’t remember.”

 

“I wanted to see you guys.”

 

Margot laughs. “Sure, man.” She pulls a joint out of her bra and lights it on the gas burner. “Wait, you said Alan was being an asshole.”

 

“Evan,” Connor corrects, because… yeah, he remembers now, Evan was being an asshole.

 

“Have we met Evan?” Margot asks, frowning a little.

 

“I honestly don’t know,” Connor admits, because time is weird. He takes the joint from Margot and takes a hit, then hands it back her. “What time is it?”

 

Margot reaches into her bra and pulls out her phone. “6am. Shit, I better wake up Eddie, they have work at 8.”

 

Connor thinks back, because he’s got a vague memory of Eddie saying he didn’t work until Sunday. “Wait, what day is it?”

 

Margot shows her phone to Connor. “Sunday.”

 

Connor feels his heart sink. Fuck. Fuuuuuuuuuck.

 

Margot quirks an eyebrow. “You were really out of it yesterday, huh?” She laughs. “Guess you’re a little out of practice.”

 

“What happened?” Connor asks, even though he doesn’t think he’ll like the answer.

 

Margot shrugs. “The usual. Bit of weed. Bit of oxy. We tried out Eddie’s hallucinogenic cactus tea. You were tripping balls, dude. We watched Duck Tales.”

 

“Duck Tales?”

 

Margot takes another hit and laughs. “Whoo-ooo.”

 

“I gotta go home,” Connor says, frowning a little. “The guy who works on Sundays is a fucking asshole and I’m, like, half convinced he’s not going to show up, fuck, I did _not_ mean to still be here on Sunday, fuck.”

 

“Seemed like you needed to blow off some steam,” says Margot, very matter-of-factly. “And hey, it’s all good, we’re here whenever.”

 

Connor feels like shit. He feels sick to his stomach and he feels guilty and he’s pissed at himself for getting so high because he hasn’t done that in ages, in a year now, not since that night that happened over and over and over again, and he’s a shitty friend who only visits Margot and Eddie when he’s pissed off at his best friend and…

 

Evan.

 

Fuck.

 

Evan’s probably…

 

Fuck.

 

He’s probably texted Connor and Connor hasn’t replied and even though he’s pissed at Evan, Connor wouldn’t deliberately just ignore him for a full day, because that’s shitty, and especially not now, not this month, not when any moment they could be dying and dying and dying, over and over again, or they could be back in that timeline where they didn’t know each other and Connor had a hard enough time talking Evan down when he’d only known him properly for a few days, it would be so much worse now.

 

He wouldn’t…

 

His heart wouldn’t take it, couldn’t take it, of course he’d talk Evan down but it would break his heart to see him like that again, it would break his heart, that fear that he might not be able to save him, and….

 

“I gotta go home,” Connor says again. “Do you know where my jacket it?”

 

It’s still not quite light when Connor gets back to the bookstore. He couldn’t get a taxi or a Lyft or anything so he had to walk, and he feels sick to his stomach the whole way there, and he’s fucking freezing. He lets himself in, disarms the alarm, heads upstairs and is greeted by an enthusiastic basset hound.

 

“Connor!” says Leslie, who’s just come out of the bathroom and looks relieved to see him. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m, uh…”

 

“Evan stopped by yesterday looking for you,” she continues, frowning a little. “He was really worried. Said you’d had a fight, and I told him you said you were staying at his… are you okay?”

 

“I’m okay,” Connor lies, rubbing his hands together because he’s still cold. “I, uh, I went to visit some friends and my phone died and I, uh…. I was pretty upset and I got pretty drunk and pretty high and… fuck.”

 

“I know Friday was kind of rough,” Leslie says, and she looks sympathetic. She also looks considerably healthier. “Sorry I stayed an extra night, I just kind of wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 

“I definitely didn’t mean to spend an entire day out of contact,” Connor says, feeling guilty and like a fucking idiot now because Leslie is one of his employees and here he is, a hungover mess. “I’m just glad I’m here now because I don’t know if Garrett’s even going to fucking show today.”

 

Leslie frowns. “I can cover him if he doesn’t,” she offers. “As long as you don’t mind hanging out with Strudel until the end of the day.”

 

“No, it’s okay,” Connor says, shaking his head. “You should get some more rest.”

 

“No offence,” says Leslie, “but I think you need it more than I do.”

 

Connor shrugs. “I’ll have a shower and some coffee and I’ll be fine,” he assures her. “I just, uh, gotta charge my phone. I should call Evan, he’ll be freaking out.”

 

“Yeah,” says Leslie sympathetically. She grabs her jacket. “I just gotta take Strudel out for a walk so he can do his business, but I can pick up some donuts and coffee while you shower? As a thank you for letting me stay.”

 

“You don’t have to do that-”

 

“I want to,” Leslie says with a nod. “This was… letting me stay here was kind of you, and I really appreciate it.” She takes a breath and then looks at him. “I know that Garrett is kind of an asshole, and I don’t know what he said to you on Friday, but I want you to know that I think you’re a great boss, and I think you’re doing really well.”

 

“Thanks,” says Connor, a little weakly.

 

It’s nice to hear.

 

Once he’s showered, Leslie’s back with donuts and coffee, and they eat for a bit while Connor waits for his phone to charge enough to call Evan. Leslie insists on staying until they’re sure Garrett’s actually shown up for his shift, and she also insists on changing the sheets and tidying up a bit in the bedroom while Connor heads to the living room and calls Evan.

 

Evan answers on the first ring. “Connor?”

 

“Hey,” Connor says, and he knows he sounds like shit. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

 

“Are you okay?” Evan asks, his voice urgent. “Fuck, where were you? You scared the shit out of me.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Where _were_ you?”

 

“Margot and Eddie’s,” Connor says, and the other end of the phone goes silent for a moment.

 

“And you couldn’t at least text me to let me know you were okay?” Evan says slowly, sounding like he’s barely holding back his frustration, and okay, Connor probably deserves that.

 

“I didn’t mean to freak you out,” Connor says wearily. “Honestly, I have no idea what the fuck I did yesterday. I woke up and it was Sunday, I didn’t intentionally ignore you for a day.”

 

“Wow,” says Evan flatly. “Okay. So you went and got super high. Real mature, Connor.”

 

Connor has a headache and a hangover and no desire to keep arguing with Evan, but he will if he has to. “I was upset,” he snaps. “I didn’t… look, it’s been a year since I hung out with them, I overestimated my tolerance, clearly.”

 

“That’s so fucking irresponsible, what the hell-”

 

“Hey, at least I didn’t give myself alcohol poisoning,” Connor snaps, and that’s when he knows he’s gone too far. He tries to backtrack. “Fuck. Evan, fuck, I’m sorry, that was… that was uncalled for, that was shitty of me to bring up like that, I am so sorry, I-”

 

“Getting so high you lose an entire day is definitely a responsible business owner move,” Evan says, his voice cold. “Well done you. I guess you don’t have to worry about being responsible when you have money, right?”

 

“Evan, come on-”

 

“I was so fucking worried about you? I thought that something might have happened to you, that we were back - back where we were last year, that maybe you… you disappeared like the mirrors and fuck, I was so fucking scared and you were just high. Terrific. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

 

“I said I was sorry, what more do you want from me?”

 

Evan laughs, and it’s cold. “I don’t want anything from you,” he says, and then the call disconnects.

 

Connor blinks a few times, because his vision is getting blurry, and to his horror, he realizes that he’s tearing up.

 

And he’s pissed off.

 

He’s so fucking pissed off.

 

There are still donuts, so Connor sits at the kitchen table and eats three donuts in succession, then goes to the fridge and pulls out a piece of turkey bacon and feeds it to Strudel, because the only reason he bought turkey bacon instead of real fucking bacon is because of Evan.

 

It’s quarter to ten, and Connor hears the front door of The Little Book Nook open, and something inside him relaxes. At least he doesn’t have to run the store today.

 

Still doesn’t mean he knows what the fuck to do about Garrett, though.

 

Leslie’s got her bag packed and puts a leash on Strudel and looks at Connor, her expression sympathetic. “Everything okay?”

 

“Well, Evan’s pissed at me now,” he says bluntly. “Honestly, I’m not too thrilled with him either. But Garrett’s downstairs, so… there’s that.”

 

“Get some sleep,” Leslie says, patting him on the shoulder. “And thank you again. I’m serious.” She smiles, showing off her dimples. “You’re one of the good ones, Connor Murphy.”

 

Connor’s still pretty sure he’s just an asshole, but he doesn’t both arguing.

 

Instead, he puts his phone back on to charge, turns it to Do Not Disturb and goes to sleep.

* * *

 

Evan hung up the phone and threw it across his bedroom. Fuck. Fucking Connor. Fucking fucking hell _fuck._ Evan could have burst into angry tears or screamed himself hoarse or something else equally ineffectual. Fucking Connor was such a goddamn asshole. Evan had been worried sick over him all weekend and he’d been hanging out with his fucking stoner burnout friends, getting high and generally not giving shit at all.

Fuck Connor.

Fuck Connor, seriously.

Evan felt, just, betrayed. Like he had worried himself sick over nothing. Over nothing and Connor didn’t even care, didn’t even fucking notice.

And then that jab about alcohol poisoning…

Fuck.

Evan remembered that and he saw red, that was low, that was too far, there was a fucking line and Connor just ignored it, just clobbered it with his hamfisted, stupid spoiled rich kid feelings and it made Evan want to punch something or throw something or break something but there were nothing to break but himself and he was so fucking tired of doing that and Connor was supposed to know that.

Evan did fucking break down then, it was too much, he was stressed out and Connor was acting like none of this meant anything, like Evan didn’t mean anything, and he was so fucking stupid to have trusted him or spent time worrying about him because he didn’t care and _fuck._

Evan swiped at his face, trying to erase the evidence of his angry, hurt tears but knowing there was no point, no fucking point because it wasn’t like anyone was around to comment. He let out a frustrated groan and just… quit. No point in holding it in when nobody gave a shit or saw it. Connor got high and dropped off the planet and stopped caring so Evan was allowed to freak out and embarrass himself in the privacy of his own bedroom.  Evan just collapsed onto his bed and broke down, all of the pain and anger and stupid hurt feelings and idiotic crushes rushing to the surface and he just.

Didn’t keep it in.

He cried and hit his pillow and sobbed and fuck fucking Connor, fuck him for treating Evan like this for once Evan knew he didn’t fucking deserve _this_.

It took a long time to stop crying and even longer to quit shaking and by the time he did it was almost noon and Evan was exhausted.

So he went back to bed.

He fucking hated Sundays.

* * *

 

By the time Tuesday rolls around, Connor feels like he’s vibrating, like he’s in this weird, other plane of existence, because he hasn’t heard from Evan.

 

He’d texted to apologize on Monday morning and hadn’t heard back.

 

Which is fucking fair enough, probably. Connor left him to worry for an entire day, it’s only fair that Evan does the same thing, and Connor knows he fucked up and the whole thing is just a fucking nightmare.

 

But next Wednesday he’s turning twenty-eight and when he turned twenty-seven, he died twenty times and Evan did too and mirrors and people disappeared and he coughed up a razor blade underneath a street lamp and Connor’s dreams are full of blood and death and falling, so much fucking falling.

 

He throws himself into his work, into his new responsibilities, but every now and then he thinks he’s seeing something out of the corner of his eye, something that doesn’t make sense, and it makes him feel like someone is walking over his grave, his twenty or more graves, the graves he never got because he died but he didn’t.

 

And he can’t stop thinking about what happened after he died the first time.

 

If Connor found himself in a reality where Evan didn’t know him, where Evan didn’t remember dying and dying and dying, then maybe there’s a reality where they died the first time and never came back.

 

A reality where he got hit by a bus with Alana Beck’s face on it and died on his 27th birthday, and his tombstone read the same date for both birth and death, and people who walked through the cemetery would stop and do a double-take and feel sorry for him, that poor bastard who died on his birthday.

 

Zoe would have been so pissed off, so mad at him, because after everything he put her through, after the yelling and the screaming and the horror of finding him, half-dead in a bathtub, pulling him out and saving him in high school, Connor was stupid enough to get himself hit by a bus because he skipped out on his own fucking birthday party.

 

Andi would have probably thrown him a wake. A mad, crazy party full of people who didn’t really know him, and it would have been full of drugs and garlic bread and alcohol and at least half the people in attendance wouldn’t have realized what kind of party it actually was.

 

His mom would have been upset. His dad wouldn’t have been surprised, because his dad never thought he’d amount to anything.

 

Connor can’t bring himself to think about how that reality would affect the people close to Evan, because the reality where he was killed by a bus with Alana Beck’s face on it is the same reality where Evan jumped off the roof of his building.

 

He can’t bring himself to think about what that would have done to Heidi Hansen, how it would have taken that bright spark out of her eyes permanently, it would have crushed her. How Sabrina would have had to live with the knowledge that her ex threw himself off a building the night she got engaged to someone else. How Alex would have been so fucking angry, so fucking angry at Evan and at herself, Connor suspects, and he doesn’t want to think about this.

 

He doesn’t want to think about it but he keeps fucking doing it, fuck.

 

He locks up the store on Tuesday night with shaking hands, and there’s a weird feeling in his head like he’s taken a bite of aluminium foil, and a ringing in his ears and the taste of metal, faint but well-remembered, and Connor grabs his jacket and his wallet and heads out into the night.

 

Connor makes a quick stop at Andre’s liquor store, where he makes pleasant conversation and Andre asks if Connor’s doing anything for his birthday, if Connor wants him to order in his pretentious asshole whisky, and Connor shakes his head, because no, he doesn’t want to risk it. Connor picks up some rum and also a bag of potato chips and puts them in his bag and heads toward Evan’s apartment.

 

He’s about to hit the buzzer when the door opens and the nice old man Connor’s met a few times who lives in Evan’s building ushers him inside with a smile. “You must be here to see Evan,” he says with a smile. “Perhaps you can cheer him up. He’s seemed a little down recently.”

 

“But he’s seemed okay?” Connor has to ask, hoping he doesn’t sound too desperate. “Have you seen him in the last few days?”

 

“We had tea on Saturday,” says the old man, who Connor thinks might be Mr. Abrahamson. “Our paths haven’t crossed since, unfortunately. He’s a good kid.” Mr. Abrahamson pats Connor’s shoulder. “Have a nice night. Tell Evan I said hi.”

 

“I will,” Connor promises, and heads up the stairs to Evan’s apartment.

 

He knocks on the door.

 

No response.

 

After a while, he tries the front door, just in case.

 

It’s locked.

 

There’s this weird, metallic taste in his mouth, and his ears are ringing and his hands are shaking and…

 

Connor stands there for a good five minutes, and his heart is pounding fast, faster than it should be, and he’s sick to his stomach, and his head is spinning and he can taste metal and…

 

He rushes up the stairs as fast as he can, higher and higher and higher, until he’s out of breath but he pushes forward and he opens the door to the roof and his heart leaps to his throat when he sees a silhouette, looking out over the city.

 

Connor runs, as fast as he can, despite being out of breath and sick to his stomach, and grabs Evan’s arm and pulls him away, pulls him into the middle of the roof and it’s only as Evan looks at him in surprise, a lit cigarette in one hand, that Connor registers that he wasn’t anywhere near the edge at all.

 

“What are you doing here?” Evan asks.

 

 _I could ask you the same question,_ is what Connor wants to say.

 

 _I am so fucking sorry,_ is what Connor wants to say.

 

 _Please don’t jump, please, please, please,_ is what Connor wants to say.

 

None of those words come out. His throat is too tight, he doesn’t have enough air, he can’t make any kind of meaningful sound, he just stands there and Evan looks horrified as Connor realizes that he’s started to cry, here on the roof where he almost lost the most important person in his life, and in less than a week he can’t be sure it won’t happen again.

 

* * *

 

Connor started to cry and Evan felt lost. He was still gripping Evan’s arm, too hard, his grip bruising, and Connor was just crying and fuck, _fuck_. “Hey,” Evan said, tossing his lit cigarette to the ground, “Connor, _hey,_ look at me.”

Connor seemed like maybe he couldn’t hear him, like even though he was gripping Evan’s arm he wasn’t really there, like there was a pane of glass between him and the rest of the world and Evan tugged Connor gently toward the patio bench in the middle of the roof and made him sit down. He freed his arm and used it to pull Connor in for a tight hug and Connor just cried on his shoulder for a little while, not quiet or restrained, and Evan understood, so he just rubbed his back and stayed put.

Connor took awhile to gather himself and then he choked out, “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Evan said quietly. “It was stupid… I’m sorry.”

Connor took a breath, and then he was pulling away, patting Evan down, like he was checking him for injuries or something, saying, “What the _fuck_ , are you alright, why are you up here?”

Oh.

Right.

Evan frowned a bit. “I… Alex and Mattie asked me to stop smoking in the apartment…” It sounded really lame and not worth it to his ears.

“So go fucking smoke on the sidewalk,” Connor said, wiping his eyes, “You almost gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“I’m sorry,” Evan said. “I didn’t even… I’m sorry. I wasn’t -”

“You swear?” Connor said, cutting him off. “You promise? You didn’t come up here to jump?”

“I really was just up here to smoke,” Evan said sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Connor nodded.

“Why are you here?”

“I…” Connor took a breath. “We _died_ last year.”

“We did.” It was an indisputable fact.

“We died and. What if it happens again? What if I wake up on my birthday and everything’s the same, and you don’t know me anymore and-and I can’t talk you down or you’re just gone what if.” He wiped his face. “I can’t do it. I don’t think I could take it if you… if you were gone, I don’t, you’re-”

Evan pulled him in for another hug because he couldn’t find words and Connor’s arms were tight around him, like he was scared to let go.

“I’m sorry,” Connor said, pulling away. “That… this weekend was shitty of me and -”

Evan shook his head. “I’m sorry too. I was in a bad fucking mood on Friday and I jumped down your throat and it was beyond uncool of me.”

“I disappeared,” Connor said. “That.. I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize-”

“I forgive you,” Evan said and Connor blinked like he didn’t understand. “I… I took it personally when it wasn’t and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Connor said. “I was an asshole. That was thoughtless. If you’d just…”

Evan took Connor’s hand, gave it a tight squeeze. “Next week -”

“Yeah.”

“I’m scared it’ll happen again,” Evan admitted. “I’m beyond scared.”

“Me too,” Connor said quietly.

“On Friday,” Evan started, treading carefully. “There’s this mirror that’s usually by the door right?” Connor nodded. “It was gone.”

“Fuck.”

“Mattie told me she broke it, but I… oh my god Connor I freaked out. I totally lost it in the living room, trying to go to work and… It was a bad day. I was late, and distracted,  I couldn’t think, I couldn’t focus, I just couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if we had stayed dead last year or what would happen if it happened again, if you weren’t in my life anymore and it…”

“It was a bad day.”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to take Garrett’s side, like, at all. That guy is a prick and I was just so stressed out that I picked a fight and I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I was the one who was irritable and then I stormed out? Like, fuck I don’t want to be that guy anymore.”

“I know.”

“Just, just… try not to fucking die again okay? I really need you to not die on me. I really need you to stay alive,” Connor said and his voice broke again and he was back to crying on Evan’s shoulder and Evan let him because he didn’t know what else he could do. He rubbed Connor’s back and let him cry and let himself feel this because he was so so fucking scared but it was easier to be scared when he wasn’t alone.

Once they had managed to pull themselves together a little, Evan laughed just a bit because he remembered something.

“What?”

“I ran into Alana Beck at the courthouse the other day. On Friday,” He said, and he was giggling still. “She got that spot on the community board.”

“Oh my fucking god.”

“She’s… she’s on the community board and her buses killed us and I saw her at the fucking courthouse because she was - I’m not kidding Connor I swear - filing a petition with the city to have more street lights installed because so many pedestrians have been hit by buses.”

“What the fuck.”

“I know.”

“She… What the fuck.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Evan shrugged. “We were both in shitty moods. I didn’t want to be the one to bring up last year, you know?”

“Yeah,” Connor said, his tone soft.

“Are we okay?” Evan said. “I mean… I know we’re not okay. We might start dying again any minute now but. You and me? Are we okay?”

“I think so.”

* * *

 

Evan notices that Connor’s shivering before he does and suggests they go back inside. Connor, who’s felt cold for reasons that have nothing to do with the weather since he stepped onto the roof, agrees, and they head down the stairs and back to Evan’s apartment. It’s warm inside, and they sit on the sofa in the living room for a while and Connor remembers that he picked up rum and potato chips. He pulls them out of his bag and puts them on the coffee table, and Evan kind of laughs a little.

 

“Apology rum and apology potato chips,” Connor explains. “Seriously Evan, I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

 

“You don’t have to keep apologizing,” Evan says softly, kind of nudging Connor with his shoulder. “We’re okay.”

 

“Oh, so you don’t want rum?”

 

“Fuck off, I definitely want rum.”

 

Evan goes to get some glasses and Connor takes a moment to try to pull himself together a little. He’s still shaking, little tremors that go right through him and are keeping him on edge, especially now that he can’t physically see Evan. They calm down a little when Evan’s right back with glasses and pours them each some rum, and they clink their glasses together and it’s…

 

It’s okay.

 

“Want to watch something?” Evan suggests, and Connor nods, and they scroll through various streaming channels until they both agree on Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Connor opens the chips and hands them to Evan and they devour the packet pretty quickly.

 

It becomes clear that neither of them have eaten much today, so they decide to order pizza, and good-naturedly fight over who should pay. When the pizza arrives, they get through that quickly, too, and Connor notices that his hands are still shaking, just a little.

 

It’s kind of embarrassing.

 

Once they’ve finished the pizza, Evan gives Connor a sad sort of smile. “Do you want to stay over?” he says, his voice so quiet.

 

“Do you want me to?” Connor asks, a little hesitantly.

 

“Yes,” says Evan immediately. “I, uh, I’m… I’m pretty freaked out. I don’t know what’s going to happen and I’m…”

 

“Yeah,” Connor says, because he knows. “Me neither.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to do this alone.”

 

“You won’t have to,” Evan promises, and Connor wants to believe him.

 

He really, really does. But what if he wakes up on his birthday and Evan doesn’t know him, what if he opens his eyes and is in front of the mirror in the bathroom of Andi’s apartment, what if they die and die and die and die and this time there’s no escape?

 

Evan lends him sweats and a t-shirt and Connor gets changed in the bathroom, then puts his sweater on top because it’s still pretty cold. When he gets back to Evan’s room, Evan’s in his pajamas and is on his phone. He looks up and smiles at Connor briefly.

 

“Just answering an email,” he says apologetically. “But then we can get some sleep.” He gives Connor a quick once over. “You look exhausted.”

 

“Yeah,” Connor says, because he agrees. He climbs into Evan’s bed and after a moment, Evan climbs in with him, and it’s so much warmer with someone else in a bed with him, and it’s helping heat through the chill that’s settled in his bones that has very little to do with the temperature.

 

Evan turns out the light and Connor closes his eyes, taking a moment to breathe in the fact that this bed smells like Evan, and Evan makes him feel safe, which is something he desperately needs right now. It doesn’t take long before he’s asleep.

 

Connor wakes up a few times during the night, each time to the sound of Evan gently snoring, which lulls him back to sleep within minutes. When he wakes up the third or fourth time, Evan’s curled up against him, his head in the crook of Connor’s neck, and there’s something incredibly comforting about the feel of Evan against him, warm and solid and real. He gives himself a few moments to enjoy it before letting himself sleep again.

 

Evan’s alarm goes off the next morning and Connor kind of dozes as Evan goes about his morning routine, until Connor’s being gently shaken awake and given a cup of coffee. “Thought you might want this,” Evan says quietly. “Is it okay if I turn on the light?”

 

“Sure,” says Connor, sitting up and blinking as his eyes get used to the light. Evan’s in a suit that’s really working for him and if it were any other situation, Connor would probably be trying to convince him that he could be late for work, but it doesn’t feel right somehow. Connor sips his coffee, feeling a little bit more like a human being, and checks his phone to see that it’s just before seven.

 

Evan puts on his tie and looks at Connor, going a little pink. “Can I come over after work tonight?” he asks. “Would that be okay?”

 

“Please come over,” Connor says immediately, because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen but he wants to keep Evan as close to him as possible, as near as possible. Hell, if he could he’d follow Evan around all day every day until his birthday is well and truly over and this all-encompassing fear has settled down.

 

That kind of sets the tone for the next week. Evan and Connor text constantly, see each other every day at least once, if not multiple times. Connor brings Evan lunch as often as he can, and even stops by before the store opens to drop off coffee if he’s organized enough in the mornings. Evan spends the entire weekend at Connor’s, camped out on his sofa (even though Connor says it’s fine for Evan to sleep in his bed with him, Evan seems hesitant for some reason), and they eat a lot of pizza and binge watch Friends and don’t have sex, which would be weird if it weren’t for the fact that Connor knows how scared they both are.

 

And then somehow it’s Wednesday night.

 

And Connor doesn’t know what’s going to happen the next day.

 

Leslie’s agreed to work the day of Connor’s birthday alone, because things are too weird to ask Garrett for cover, and Connor makes a note of it so that he can make it up to her somehow later in the year. Evan booked the day off months ago, so he’s not working either.

 

They agree to spend the day together, hoping it will keep them safe.

 

Or if not safe, at least together.

 

Evan’s at the store when Connor closes on Wednesday with a backpack, in comfortable clothes, with a canvas bag full of snacks, and Connor locks up the store and ushers him upstairs.

 

They sit at the kitchen table for a while, Connor’s head spinning with all the possible ways they could die.

 

“We could stay in bed,” Evan says, then goes red. “Not for… not for sex, just for safety. We could… get a laptop and watch movies or whatever and just… stay in bed. Did you… did you ever die in bed?” Connor shakes his head, and Evan nods. “Okay, so… shall we try?”

 

“Okay,” says Connor.

 

And that’s what they do. They get into pajamas and climb into Connor’s bed and Connor puts on the heater and is very, very careful to make sure there’s nothing nearby that could catch fire, and turns it off once it’s warm enough just to be safe, and they look through movies for a while before Connor spots Captain America and mentions to Evan that he hasn’t seen it.

 

“You like superhero films, right?” Connor asks Evan.

 

Evan’s face lights up. “Yeah,” he says, a little awkwardly. “I, uh, I like superhero films.”

 

“What if we watch the ones that all go together?” Connor suggests. “I know there’s like a… universe?”

 

“The Marvel Cinematic Universe, yeah.” Evan looks at him. “Have you seen any of them? Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, The Avengers, Guardians of the Galaxy?”

 

“No,” Connor admits. “We could do that?”

 

“Okay,” says Evan, who’s sounding a lot more enthusiastic now.

 

“Is there, like, an order we should be watching them in?” Connor asks as Evan starts looking through the selection.

 

“We can start with _Captain America: The First Avenger,_ ” Evan says, and brings up the film and Connor nods approvingly at the still photo of Chris Evans.

 

“He’s hot,” Connor comments.

 

Evan smirks. “Just wait until you see his best friend.”

 

They settle in and start watching, and Connor finds himself engrossed in the story. He definitely appreciates a shirtless post-serum Steve Rogers and says as much to Evan, who nods in agreement.

 

“Peggy Carter is a badass,” Connor says approvingly. “Women aren’t my area, but damn.”

 

“There are so many attractive people in this franchise,” Evan says with a nod. “My weak bisexual heart can barely take it.”

 

Connor turns to him immediately. “Are you okay?”

 

Evan laughs a little awkwardly. “Connor, it’s a joke.”

 

“Right,” says Connor, nodding like he wasn’t just having a slight panic. He laughs the best he can. “I guess I’m just a little on edge.”

 

“I get it,” says Evan, and grabs his hand, and Connor knows that he’s the other only person in the world who does.

 

They both fall asleep near the beginning of _Iron Man 2_. Connor wakes up to find the movie still going and Evan asleep, so closes his laptop and puts it on the floor and turns out the bedside lamp and goes back to sleep.

 

When Connor next wakes up, it’s morning. There’s a buzzing in his ears, a metallic taste in his mouth, and his hands are shaking. He looks over to see Evan slowly opening his eyes, looking at Connor in confusion, and Connor’s heart starts pounding, his stomach starts spinning, and Evan’s just staring at him and blinking and fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

“Hey,” Connor says, as gently as he can. “Do you know who I am?”

 

“Connor,” says Evan after a moment, still blinking.

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, still not sure if this is the Evan he knows, the Evan he’s spent the last year getting to know more and more, the Evan who he cares about more than anyone. “We… we went to high school together.”

 

Evan sits up then and grabs Connor’s hand and squeezes it. “I know,” he says, his voice stronger now. “Connor, it’s me, it’s the me that knows you, it’s okay.”

 

“Good,” says Connor, knowing his voice is shaking, that his hand is shaking even in Evan’s grip. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m okay,” Evan assures him, squeezing his hand harder, shutting down the tremors. “Are you okay?”

 

“I think so,” Connor says, trying to get his racing heart under control.

 

“Okay,” says Evan, nodding. He offers Connor a weak smile. “Hey.”

 

“Hey.”

 

“Happy birthday.”

* * *

 

Connor smiled at him, slightly. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to open your birthday present now?” Evan asked. He looked at his phone and saw that it was just after six in the morning. “I know it’s early, but it’s never too early for presents.”

Connor frowned. “Last year all I got your for your birthday was food.”

“And it was a very good gift because I was hungry,” Evan said sensibly. “I think I should give your present. And that you should open it carefully.”

“Why, is it dangerous?”

“No! God no, I’m just worried that somehow you’ll, like, nick an artery on wrapping paper or something.”

That made Connor smile ever so slightly. Evan gingerly got up from Connor’s bed and went into his bag for the present. He handed it to Connor and then stood back a bit from the bed.

Connor unwrapped the paper from the book very very carefully, and then his face broke out into a genuine smile. “You got me _A Wrinkle in Time?_ ”

“I noticed it was the only one from your eighth grade list that you didn’t have on your bookshelf,” Evan said, shrugging. “And also, us happening upon a tesseract is one of my new theories for what the fuck happened last year.”

Connor laughed a little. “Thank you, this is really great.” He pulled Evan in for a quick, one armed hug, but the shift caused Evan to lose his balance and he and Connor smacked their heads together and Evan ended up on top of Connor, on his bed feeling embarrassed.

“Fuck sorry are you okay?”   

Connor nodded, a little frantically, then sucked in a sort of wheezy breath. “I thought - I thought -”

“I know,” Evan said, rolling off of Connor and then helping him to sit up. Connor’s breathing wasn’t quite right, and Evan kept his arm firmly around his shoulders. “We just… are clumsy. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Okay,” Connor said, and he was sucking in a deep breath. “Okay. Okay okay okay.”

“We’re fine.”

“We’re fine.”

Evan was determined to make it through today alive suddenly because he couldn’t stand the thought of that terror on Connor’s face anymore. They carefully made their way out of the bedroom, with Connor explaining that he had bought some premade iced coffee because he was too scared to turn on the kettle and Evan produced a box of granola bars from his bag so they didn’t need to cook, and after they had eaten and drank slowly, the headed back to Connor’s bedroom and watched more Marvel movies, picking back up where they had left off with _Iron Man._

Connor joked all through _Thor_ and _The Avengers_ that he really related to Loki’s whole misunderstood emo kid thing which Evan found super adorable. He teased Connor, saying he thought he would make for a good “power hungry sad boy” and Connor rolled his eyes and poked Evan in the ribs.

They took a little break from watching movies after they finished _Iron Man 3_ so Evan could check his email and fret a bit about missing working. Connor texted Leslie to make sure she didn’t need reinforcements at the store and she replied, _“Everything is good. Aren’t you literally just upstairs?”_

Evan kept watching the clock. This time last year… “What was the latest you ever made it? Before we managed to uh. Get out?”

Connor looked thoughtful. “It was starting to get dark out. On Wednesday.”

“Me too,” Evan said. “So I think we just. We just need through today, right? If we make it through today it’ll be fine.”

Connor nodded.

But then said, “But what if we don’t?”

“Then we’ll find each other,” Evan said, his voice stronger than he felt. “We’ll find each other. We’ve done it before. We’ve done it even when we didn’t know each other. We’ll find each other.”

Connor grabbed his hand tightly, squeezing it, and nodding.

For lunch, Evan insisted on ordering food, his treat, and Leslie was kind enough to bring their UberEats up the steps to the apartment. Evan ordered enough food to keep them going through dinner, because he was not taking any chances. They turned on the next movie and stayed in Connor’s room.

Evan had to admit that he was pretty exhausted. Fear had sapped away all of his energy and, it seemed, had stolen most of Connor’s too because Connor dropped off to sleep somewhere in the middle of _Age of Ultron._

He looked peaceful in his sleep.

Untroubled, younger.

Beautiful.

Fuck, Evan couldn’t help it, his heart squeezed painfully and he just laid down beside Connor and watched him sleeping until his own eyes closed. They had taken the day off to make sure they lived through it, but Evan figured, sleep was a pretty safe way to keep themselves alive.

When they woke up again, it was way late, the afternoon having already slipped into evening and Evan had a good feeling that he wouldn’t die today.

He was right.


	13. March (One Year and One Month After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can’t say you’re bad at something you haven’t tried."

Connor honestly doesn’t know what the fuck he was thinking. 

 

He’s with Evan in Connor’s apartment, immediately post-sex, and they’re both trying to catch their breath and not-cuddling because Evan Doesn’t Cuddle, and Connor realizes that he hasn’t had sex with anyone other than Evan in a year. 

 

Like an idiot, he says that out loud. 

 

He can feel Evan tense immediately. “You haven’t?” 

 

“Nope,” says Connor, who at this stage hasn’t quite figured out that going down this line of conversation is a Very Bad Move. “Honestly, I think that’s some kind of record.”

 

“Really.” Evan sits up and looks at him. “Only having sex with one person for a whole year is a record?”

 

“Well, yeah,” says Connor, like the idiot he is. “I mean, with Richard, I was only sleeping with him at the beginning, but then when I found out he was married, I kind of figured… what the hell.” 

 

“Right,” says Evan, and he’s starting to look annoyed, and Connor regrets bringing up Richard, because he knows how much Evan hates that guy. “So you were fucking a married guy and then a ton of other guys as well.”

 

“Not a  _ ton, _ Jesus.” Connor starts looking around for his underwear, because he’s starting to feel uncomfortable having this conversation naked. “I just… I don’t know, I don’t really date but I like sex. Whatever. It’s… it’s not like I feel like I’ve missed out on anything this last year, only having sex with you.” 

 

Connor kind of hopes that Evan’s going to take that as a compliment, because it’s supposed to be one, but Evan’s frowning. “You don’t date?” 

 

Connor shrugs. “Not really? I meet guys at parties and bars and stuff, mostly.”

 

Evan’s staring at him. “And you just… have sex with them?”

 

Connor feels his ears starting to turn pink. “That makes me sound like a slut,” he mumbles. “I just… I’m kind of an asshole, as you are well aware, and dating is not… my area. Sex? Sure. Dating? I don’t even know where I’d start.”

 

Evan’s putting his underwear on now, still with that same frown of confusion. “I mean, you’d start with… getting to know someone? Isn’t that the whole point of dating? To get to know people?”

 

Connor shrugs again. And says something really fucking stupid. “I mean, I know  _ you, _ and we’re having sex-”

 

“But we’re not dating,” says Evan, and it comes out in a rush and it’s very loud, and Connor’s got this weird feeling in his chest because yeah, okay, he knows that Evan’s not looking for anything serious and he’s fine with that but it kind of stings to be reminded that the idea of dating Connor is, to Evan, apparently so ridiculous that he needs to loudly remind Connor that it’s not happening. 

 

“I know that,” Connor says, trying not to snap. “But it’s fine. I’m fine with things how they are. You’re my best friend and we have sex and… it’s not like I’d be any good at dating if I tried it anyway.”

 

“But you haven’t tried,” says Evan, and he’s frowning now. “How do you… how do you know you’d be bad at dating if you haven’t tried?”

 

Connor frowns. “I don’t… I mean, I’m not opposed to the idea, in theory-”

 

“You should date someone,” Evan says, and the way he says it is like he’s made some kind of decision, and Connor feels like he’s lost control of this conversation. “You can’t say you’re bad at something you haven’t tried. I bet you’d be… fine. You’d be fine at it.”

 

“I think you overestimate me,” Connor says, having finally found his underwear, which has somehow ended on the other side of the room, though he honestly can’t remember how. “I’m not… I’m not good with people, so much.”

 

Evan blinks. “Have you met me? I’m a nervous wreck.”

 

“You are not.”

 

“I am. And I’ve successfully dated people.” Evan bites his lip. “You should go on a date.”

 

“What?”

 

“Go on a date. See what it’s like.” 

 

“With who, exactly?” Connor asks. “This is a genuine question. I’m not exactly swimming in free time and I’m kind of over the bar scene anyway.” 

 

Evan pulls on his shirt. “You could try a dating app.”

 

“Hard pass.”

 

“Maybe Andi knows someone.”

 

“What, so like, a blind date?”

 

“I don’t know,” Evan says, and he sounds frustrated now. “I just… you should date. You should date someone.”

 

Connor looks at him for a moment. “Why is this so important to you?”

 

“Because you’re saying you’re bad at something and haven’t tried it,” Evan say, and he sounds irritated. “That’s terrible logic.”

 

Connor blinks. “This is a logic issue?”

 

“You should date someone,” Evan says again, and he’s saying it like this is the end of the conversation, like it’s settled, like Connor shouldn’t argue, and…

 

Well. 

 

Connor shrugs, then looks for a pair of sweatpants he was wearing the night before, because it’s late and he’s honestly exhausted at this point. “I’ll think about it.”

 

“Good,” says Evan, putting on his own pants. He picks up his phone off Connor’s bedside table where it’s charging. “I should get home. I’ll order a Lyft.”

 

It’s nearly 2 in the morning and Connor kind of wants to ask if Evan wants to stay, because it’s late and this is New York City, but Evan doesn’t like staying over, which is fine. Evan’s got his boundaries and his rules and Connor’s happy to follow them because he knows that there are a lot of things that freak Evan out and Connor’s never wanted their whole fuck-buddies thing to be one of them, so…

 

He doesn’t ask. 

 

Maybe Evan’s worried that Connor’s getting emotionally attached, Connor thinks after Evan leaves and he’s taking his meds and brushing his teeth. Which is… well, Connor doesn’t really know, he doesn’t really want to think about it or examine it too much, because the way that he feels about Evan is completely different to the way he feels about anyone else he’s slept with, but he also has never had a friend like Evan before, someone who really gets him, so it’s probably got more to do with that. 

 

The conversation is still bugging him well into the next week, and it’s clearly on his mind enough that he, like an idiot, blurts it out to his sister when they’re having coffee. 

 

“Evan thinks I should date.”

 

Zoe nearly spits out her coffee. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

Connor shrugs. “We were talking and I was saying that I… don’t really date and that I’m probably bad at it, and he said that I can’t say I’m bad at something I haven’t tried, and so I should date someone.”

 

Zoe blinks. “But you and Evan are sleeping together.”

 

“We’re just friends,” Connor says, for what’s probably the millionth time in the past year. 

 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “That’s bullshit, but alright. He wants you to date someone?”

 

“Apparently it’s bad logic if I say I’m bad at something I haven’t tried?”

 

“I mean, it is, but also… wow. Okay.”

 

Connor shrugs and stirs his coffee absently. “He suggested I talk to Andi and see if she knows someone I could date.” He looks at his sister, feeling a little desperate. “Do you think I should? Is that weird?”

 

Zoe looks at him and raises her eyebrows, her expression challenging. “If you’re really not into with Evan, then go ahead,” she says. “Get Andi to set you up with someone. Who knows? You might hit it off.”

 

“Yeah, but…”

 

“But what?” Zoe asks, tilting her head. “If you and Evan are just friends who like to have sex, then you meeting someone who actually wants to have a relationship with you is fine, right?”

 

“I like things the way they are,” Connor says stubbornly. “I don’t want to…”

 

He’s not sure he can finish that sentence because he’s not sure how it ends. Realistically, he doesn’t want things to change. He’s got the bookstore, and August is fast approaching, and there’s still work to be done, and having sex with Evan is fucking fantastic and good for stress relief and…

 

He  _ knows _ Evan. He doesn’t have to go through the whole ‘getting to know you’ thing with Evan, he knows Evan. He knows Evan, they’re having sex, it’s fine. 

 

“What’s even the difference?” Connor says instead. “Like, Evan is my best friend and we have sex a lot. What’s… I don’t really date, I don’t know if I’d even be good at it, what would I… what would I do differently from what we’re doing, now?”

 

Zoe looks confused for a moment, then disbelieving. “Have you ever actually dated anyone?” she asks point blank. 

 

“Honestly? No.” 

 

“Wait, really?” 

 

Connor shrugs. Feels his face turn red. He looks at his coffee cup. “High school was hell, and then my freshman year of college I was just… trying to stay alive, I guess.” He shrugs. “Then when I turned 21… I just… met people in bars and… yeah.” He takes another sip of his coffee.

 

Zoe looks a little sad when he finally looks up at her. “So you’ve never been on a date? Or been in a relationship?” 

 

Connor shrugs again. “Is it really that big a deal?” he asks, and he’s starting to get seriously embarrassed. “I mean, you know I’m an asshole. I wouldn’t… I definitely wouldn’t make a good boyfriend or whatever.”

 

Zoe frowns a little. “I wouldn’t say that,” she says gently. 

 

Connor rolls his eyes. “I’m like… kind of garbage? I spent a year fucking a guy who I knew was married, so… yeah.” He finishes his coffee and puts it down on the table. “Honestly, I don’t have high hopes for this whole dating thing. At all.”

 

Zoe looks at him, and she’s still frowning, and she looks almost conflicted. “Talk to Andi,” she says after a long pause. “See if she knows someone. Maybe Evan’s right. You should at least try. It couldn’t hurt.”

 

Connor takes a deep breath. 

 

Lets it out slowly. 

 

“I could try?” he says, and Zoe smiles. 

 

Andi is notoriously bad at answering her phone and Connor feels like this is a conversation that shouldn’t happen over text, so that weekend, Connor heads to his old apartment to visit his former roommate. On the way, he picks up a bottle of rum and a pineapple. 

 

He knocks on the door and Andi answers it, topless and covered in paint. 

 

It’s kind of nice to see nothing’s changed. 

 

“Connor! Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!” Andi pulls him into a tight hug and doesn’t let go for a very long time, and she smells like patchouli and weed and turpentine and Connor’s actually really missed her a lot. 

 

“I brought rum,” he says. “And a pineapple, because I know you like fruit.”

 

“What brings you here?” says Andi, ushering him inside and into the kitchen, where she immediately puts the pineapple on a chopping board and starts to cut it into manageable chunks. Connor pulls two glasses out of the cabinet and sits at the kitchen island. 

 

“I have a weird favor to ask,” Connor says, bracing himself. 

 

“I’m all for weird. What’s going on?”

 

Connor takes a deep breath. “Do you know anyone who might want to date me?”

 

Andi stands there, holding half a pineapple, looking very, very confused. “Did you and Evan break up?” 

 

“Evan and I were never together,” he reminds her.

 

Andi frowns. “I mean, you kept saying it, but you… did you stop sleeping together?”

 

“No,” Connor says. He frowns. “I don’t think so. I don’t know.” He sighs, then pours himself a glass of rum. “He told me I should date someone.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’ve never… I’ve never dated anyone, and I said I was probably bad at it, and then Evan said I couldn’t say I was bad at something I hadn’t tried, so I had to… try.” He takes a sip of his rum. “Anyway, he said I should ask if you knew anyone.” Connor pours another glass of rum and hands it to Andi, who downs it in one go, looking thoughtful. 

 

“What’s your type?” Andi asks, putting the glass down and going back to chopping up pineapple. 

 

Connor shrugs. “Smart,” he says. “I guess. Smart, but not like, know-it-all smart. Not too full of themselves - I can’t deal with another ego like Richard’s, oh my god.” He shrugs again. “Someone I can actually have a conversation with, I guess. Someone who… gives a shit about stuff, who actually cares about things and isn’t just an apathetic asshole like I used to be.” 

 

Andi tilts her head a little. “Actually,” she says slowly, “I had a party a few months back and Kiki brought her new roommate Parker and he was a cool guy. Smart, read a lot, good sense of humor - kind of dark sense of humor, honestly, you’d like it. He’s a writer, I think, and he’s doing his Masters in English Literature and he’s gay. I can ask Kiki if he’s single?”

 

“Which one’s Kiki?” Connor has to ask. 

 

“You remember Kiki!” says Andi, handing him a chunk of pineapple. “She was at the Valentine’s orgy three years ago.”

 

“There were a lot of people at the Valentine’s orgy,” Connor points out. “I saw way more vaginas than I ever want to see that night because you hosted it in the living room and didn’t pre-warn me.”

 

“It was a good night,” says Andi wistfully. “I was dating Carol-Ann and wanted to surprise her. She was so happy.”

 

“You know, some people just buy flowers.”

 

Sunday afternoon, Connor’s in his living room reading  _ On The Beach _ under a pile of very fluffy blankets when there’s a knock on the door of his apartment. He goes to open it to see Evan, carrying a canvas bag. “I was craving hot chocolate,” he says. “But I can’t find a place that does a soy one that isn’t shit, so I found a recipe online and went out and bought ingredients, and then I remembered that I’m a terrible cook, so… help?”

 

“It can’t be that hard,” Connor says, and they empty out the contents of the bag onto the table, and Evan pulls up the recipe on Connor’s laptop and Connor starts reading it. “Oh my god, shut the fuck up about your holiday shopping and get to the fucking recipe, Jesus fuck.”

 

“Recipe blogs are weird,” Evan agrees, taking off his coat and hanging it on the back of a chair. 

 

“Okay, so it’s basically just heating almond milk with some dark chocolate and sugar,” Connor says. He looks at Evan a little quizzically. “You can do it in the microwave.”

 

“Huh,” says Evan, looking a little sheepish. “Okay, so I guess it wasn’t that complicated after all.” 

 

“Hot chocolate sounds awesome, though,” Connor says with a shrug. “I’m doing it on the stove, though, because that always makes me feel like I’m a real chef.”

 

“Should I get you one of those hats?” 

 

“Maybe for my next birthday,” Connor quips, pulling out a saucepan and some measuring cups (which he owns because his mother for some reason thought he might want to bake one day). “Okay, so… do you want to, like, break the chocolate into bits so it melts easier?”

 

“Does it say that in the recipe?”

 

Connor shrugs. “No, but it’s just common sense.”

 

Evan smiles. “See, I knew there was a reason I came here.”

 

Connor measures out 2 cups of almond milk, then adds the chocolate and some sugar, and heats it up gently. He remembers his mom making hot chocolate like this when he was a kid, so it’s not a completely unfamiliar process to him. Evan’s standing next to him, watching on with interest. 

 

It doesn’t take long at all, and soon they’ve got a mug of hot chocolate each, and Evan’s even bought marshmallows - big, fat, fluffy Kosher ones - and they settle in the living room and Connor puts his laptop on the coffee table and they start watching reruns of  _ Parks and Recreation _ , and it’s… nice. 

 

It’s a little cold in the living room, so blankets are in order. Connor has the sudden urge to put his arm around Evan and pull him close toward him, which could just be because he’s cold, but he finds himself wondering what would be different if he and Evan were…

 

You know… 

 

Actually dating. 

 

Would Evan still be his best friend? Would he show up with hot chocolate ingredients and watch TV with him? Would the sex be the same, or different, better, or worse? 

 

He can’t imagine it being worse, honestly. Sex with Evan is always fucking incredible, he doesn’t see why them dating would make it worse. 

 

Connor doesn’t put his arm around Evan’s shoulder and pull him close, snuggle up under the blankets with him, and a part of him wishes that he could. And the whole idea of dating kind of scares him, really, but maybe if it were with Evan, it wouldn’t be so bad, except that Evan’s made it very clear that they’re not dating, that they’re just friends, and Evan wants him to date someone, wants him to be with someone else and it’s probably because Connor sometimes thinks things like ‘it would be nice to snuggle up under the blankets’ and Evan’s just not interested in that. 

 

Connor’s phone buzzes from on the coffee table and he sees there’s a message from Andi. It takes him a few moments to decipher it. 

 

**parkers single and interested, friday at 9 library bar east vil your welcome ily xx**

 

Evan must see that Connor’s staring at his phone in confusion, because he asks, “everything okay?”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, a little distracted. “I, uh, it looks like I have a date? On Friday?”

 

“Oh,” says Evan, sounding surprised. “Did, uh, did Andi find you someone?”

 

“She did,” Connor says, still looking at his phone. A moment later, there’s a link to an Instagram account, and he clicks on it to see that this Parker guy’s account is public and…

 

Wow. Okay. 

 

He’s… hotter than Connor expected. 

 

Evan looks over his shoulder. “Is this the guy?” he asks, and Connor feels super weird about Evan seeing this but it would be weirder to, like, take the phone away, right? 

 

“Yeah,” says Connor. “His name’s Parker. Andi said he was a writer? And he’s doing his Masters in… English Lit.”

 

“At NYU, according to his bio,” Evan points out. Connor looks at Evan to see he’s frowning, but when Evan sees Connor looking at him he offers a smile. “He’s hot.” 

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, and he feels super awkward about saying that.

 

“So, Friday?” Evan says after a moment. 

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, and he’s got to say something other than just ‘yeah’ but at the moment he’s just trying to ignore this weird, swooping feeling in his stomach. 

 

“I hope it goes really well,” says Evan, and he’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and Connor smiles back but it’s possible his smile is just as awkward. 

* * *

 

Evan was a fucking idiot and he was paying for it. Like seriously, genuinely, tortuously paying for it and it was his own damn fault for opening his stupid fucking mouth. 

He’d panicked, truth be told. Connor’s offhand comment about how Evan was the only person he had slept with that year and that was probably a record since Connor didn’t date had made Evan nervous, like really idiotically, butterflies in his stomach might puke nervous and so his dumbass said the words, “But you haven’t tried. How do you… how do you know you’d be bad at dating if you haven’t tried?”

Why had he said that, why the hell had he said that?

And really, honestly, the real reason was some part of him was over this whole hiding-his-feelings song and dance and was kind of half heartedly suggesting that Connor might want to date  _ him _ , date Evan, his fuck buddy who was fucking stupid but at the last moment he chickened out and suggested Connor try a dating app. 

_ Smooth moves, Hansen. Way to fucking go.  _

So Connor, being the person he was, went and asked Andi to set him up and Evan found himself on a sofa, with Connor, under a blanket looking at pictures of some fucking hot English Lit MA candidate’s instagram trying not to be visibly upset by this turn of events which he had stupidly set into motion. 

Evan seriously wanted to go back in time and slap himself. Things were fine the way they were and he wobbled for one second and now Connor was making plans to get a drink this seriously hot, like unnecessarily hot, like  _ Saved By the Bell- _ era Mario Lopez but without the mullet hot, guy whose instagram bio made some joke about being “trilingual and up to try anything” and Evan kind of wanted to kill himself because that was just unfucking fair. 

Shit. 

Okay kill himself was dramatic. He didn’t want to actually kill himself and Marcia got on him about using it, even causally, even joking, because it normalized it as a reasonable response to stress and Evan didn’t want to die and really, he was pretty annoyed that the words had even crossed his mind while he was busy being so petty and jealous but clearly Evan wasn’t thinking straight because he was having this sudden vision of going and punching Perfect Parker in his Perfect Face. 

“His name’s Parker.  Andi said he was a writer? And he’s doing his Masters in… English Lit,” Connor said. 

“At NYU, according to his bio,” Evan said and then sort of wanted to slap himself because he was positive he sounded snotty and petty and like  _ “oh NYU, you mean where I got my LAW DEGREE? _ ” Connor sent Evan an almost nervous look so Evan coughed out, “He’s hot.” 

Evan was not a terribly jealous person. In past relationships, he was never ever the guy who got upset about people he dated talking to exes, spending one on one time with friends of the gender they were attracted to, and he had only once gotten into an argument with Sabrina when she was, in fact, intentionally flirting with a bartender to annoy him. Evan was not a jealous person. He just wasn’t. 

Except he totally was and he was going to lose his damn mind if he had to sit here looking at Perfect Parker’s Perfectly Curated Social Media Presence for another second. 

“So Friday?” Evan asked, his voice sounding sort of weird and almost Muppet-like to his ears, like he had an air bubble in his throat blocking the sound rather than a huge lump. 

“Yeah,” Connor said. 

“I hope it goes really well,” Evan lied because he actually hoped Parker was the sort of person who would try to order food for Connor or have terrible breath or only talk about himself because he did not want Connor suddenly go and, like, get a boyfriend or something because obviously the boyfriend wouldn’t be chill with Connor’s ex-fuckbuddy hanging around all the time, ruining the mood by being sweaty and having Hard Opinions On Almond Milk. 

“I uh. I should probably head home,” Evan said after an acceptable and not suspicious amount of time. “I just remembered I have a petition I have to file by eight o’clock tomorrow morning and if it’s even a minute late the judge will throw it out so I’m gonna head home but thanks so much for the hot chocolate I’ll talk to you later bye.”

_ Smooth Fucking Moves. _

God, what a nightmare. 

Evan wanted to go home and drink until he couldn’t feel his face and go through every single one of Parker’s photos until he could figure out where the guy lived and like sign him up for a bunch of junk mail, but Evan really  _ did  _ have to file that petition and also that was Not A Healthy Coping Mechanism, Evan so instead he had a cup of tea and reviewed the petition before sending it to Mariah to see if she had a couple of minutes to glance at it before work in the morning, then he added the time to his billable hours worksheet and shut his computer down before he wandered over to instagram and, like, creepily looked through Parker’s photos dating back to 2012 or whatever. 

Evan really fucked up this one. And it was his own damn fault. He should have just… it was a perfect moment to say something better and he ruined it. Basically anything would have been better than what he said. Shouting “spaghetti squash” to distract Connor from the topic would have been better. 

In his head, it played out a lot nicer. 

Connor said he’d never dated, that he thought he would be bad and Evan said he couldn’t be bad at something he had never tried and then he could have suggested, “Hey, we could do that. We could go out. Call it a date for a change. Actually let me pay for something for once.”

But he fucking didn’t because he was a coward and scared of change so instead he… told Connor to go date other people. And it sucked. It really sucked. He felt really stupid, and it hurt a bit that Connor just… agreed. No resistance, nothing to suggest he had any interest in Evan which was… fair. 

It wasn’t like Evan expected him to. Maybe he just. Kind of hoped. A little. Secretly, deep down, he was just sort of… hoping that one day Connor would draw that conclusion and end up doing something about it but it didn’t happen and he had a date with a hot guy on Friday and that was. 

Good. Great, even. Connor deserved dates with hot guys and he deserved to be happy. 

Evan just. He’d stupidly kind of hoped that maybe he might make Connor happy. Which he knew was unrealistic. He was scary and damaged and Connor had seen him do horrible, stupid things like try to throw himself off a roof and give himself alcohol poisoning so he knew and understood why it wasn’t like that for Connor. 

But it stung. It hurt, a bit. And Evan hated it. 

He had half a pint of soy ice cream for dinner and went to bed early, thinking maybe it would look less bleak by morning.

It didn’t.

* * *

 

 

Connor closes the bookstore at 8pm on Friday, then heads upstairs to his apartment to have a quick shower before his date. 

 

Which he’s still not sure he’s not going to just… not show up to, in all honesty. It’s weird and he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. 

 

Andi had given Parker his number and he’d heard from him earlier in the week, so it’s not like he’s going in completely blind. They’d exchanged a few texts, mostly saying hi and sorting out the details of meeting in person on Friday, and it had been… nice. Light conversation, sure, but not unpleasant, and Connor feels like he should be looking forward to this, if he were a normal person who knew how to date. 

 

Once he’s out of the shower, he blow dries his hair and puts on his nicest pair of jeans (which are probably too tight but whatever) and then looks in his closet and realizes he’s got no idea what you wear on a date. After a few moments of consideration, he puts on a shirt and a blazer that Evan once said looked good on him then looks at himself in the mirror critically. 

 

It’s… fine, he guesses. 

 

He snaps a quick selfie and sends it to Evan. 

 

**Is this okay for my date tonight?**

**Honest feedback, please.**

 

Evan doesn’t answer by the time he has to leave, so Connor just heads out of his apartment, gets a Lyft to the bar where he’s meeting Parker and hopes for the best. When he gets to the bar, it’s not too crowded, which he appreciates, and it’s just hit nine o’clock and he gets a text from Parker saying that he’s found some armchairs in the corner, and Connor heads over and spots him easily. 

 

The lighting in this bar isn’t the best but Parker is still extremely attractive. Almost intimidatingly so. Enough to make Connor wonder what’s wrong with him that he’s single and willing to go on a blind date based on the recommendation of a lesbian who can’t keep her shirt on. Parker smiles when he sees him, and it’s a big wide toothy smile and he’s got a gap between his two front teeth and Connor finds it oddly endearing. 

 

“Hi,” he says, not sure if he’s supposed to shake hands or hug or how on earth first date introductions are supposed to go. “I’m Connor.”

 

“I figured,” says Parker, and he’s got a hint of a Canadian accent and Connor kind of likes it. “And I’m Parker. Obviously.”

 

Connor sits down in one of the armchairs, which means he’s not quite face to face with Parker, but they’re at a comfortable enough distance to talk and get a good look at each other. “So,” says Connor, for lack of anything better to say, “I, uh, I never know what you’re supposed to say first.”

 

“Andi tells me you run a bookstore,” Parker with that big smile, and Connor feels a little less weird. “And that you co-founded an indie publishing company? She didn’t tell me which one, though, and I didn’t ask because I figured it would give us something to talk about.”

 

Connor smiles. “I mean, that’s fair,” he says. “So friends of mine from college and I founded Leatherbird Publishing? I don’t know if you’ve heard of it.”

 

Parker’s eyes light up. “Actually, I have. A friend of mine has worked with you guys. Do you know Jenny Parson? She wrote a book called, uh…”

 

“ _ Unknowable Bee Monsters _ ?” Connor says, remembering the name. He grins. “Oh my god, that was so fucking weird but kind of brilliant? Like… weird pulpy science fiction but also very, very queer.” 

 

“Yes!” Parker said, grinning back. “I read it, and I really enjoyed it, but I can see how it would have been very… niche.”

 

Connor laughs. “Yeah. Dave and Mikhail, my business partners, they’re all about the weird and niche. I’ve edited some interesting stuff.”

 

Parker smiles. “I’d love to hear about it. Can I get you a drink? They do really good cocktails here.”

 

“Sure,” says Connor, and he looks at the cocktail menu on the coffee table, and ends up settling on something that sounds like it’s probably an old-fashioned, and then he and Parker have a moment where they try to settle on who’s going to pay for drinks. Parker’s the first one up, so he tells Connor he can get the next round, and heads to the bar. 

 

Connor sits there for a moment, and his phone buzzes. He pulls it out to see that Evan has finally responded, nearly an hour later. 

 

**I think that’s fine**

**You look nice**

**Have fun**

  
  


Well. Alright then. 

 

Parker comes back with the drinks and they dive back into talking about Leatherbird. “Jenny said that working with you guys was a really smooth process,” he says, smiling a little. “Even if she sometimes disagreed with some of your editing decisions.”

 

Connor laughs. “Jenny really likes her adjectives,” he says, remembering. “And she has a weird relationship with tenses. She kept trying to tell me it was a stylistic choice, but… if it was, I couldn’t figure out what it was trying to do and it was just distracting. We got to a compromise in the end.”

 

“I’ve read some of her stuff,” Parker admits. “Honestly, I think you did a great job. It still feels like her voice but it makes a lot more sense. She can get… a bit out there.”

 

“Some people just really don’t like editors,” Connor says with a nod. “And, yeah, I get it. If you’re writing something, you’re… putting part of yourself onto the page, you know? So having someone come along and go ‘actually that’s bad’ is a little soul-destroying.”

 

“She did say you were kind about it,” Parker says, nodding as well. “Well, she didn’t name you, but she said that the main editor at Leatherbird was good to deal with, back when it was published.” He grins. “And here we are.”

 

“Here we are,” Connor agrees. He smiles. “So, tell me about what you’re writing?”

 

Parker, it turns out, is writing something based on his childhood, and it’s a coming of age story and it doesn’t sound completely terrible. He’s clearly not comfortable tooting his own horn, though, and is pretty self-effacing, which is honestly kind of nice. Connor’s met plenty of writers who are convinced they’re writing something groundbreaking, the next great American novel, and it’s always a fun time, trying to break it to them that what they’re doing isn’t even slightly revolutionary. 

 

“So you grew up in Montreal?” Connor clarifies.

 

Parker nods. “Some of the time, yeah. My mom is Quebecois, my dad is American. So I spent some time in Vermont as a kid, because it’s where my dad’s parents live, but mostly Montreal.”

 

Connor’s fascinated, he has to say. “Do you speak French?”

 

Parker grins. “Mais oui.” 

 

Connor grins back. “Awesome. Maybe you can tell me whether it’s really going to make a difference if I read  _ Les Fleurs du Mal _ in the original French. The store’s foreign language supplier says I absolutely have to and I’ve got this book that has multiple translations from different people? They both have a very different feel, so I’m super curious about the original French.”

 

Parker’s eyes light up. “Oh man, Baudelaire is so weird, dude. I read _ Les Fleurs du Mal _ in my undergrad and, dude, he is not a cheerful man.”

 

“I kind of figured,” Connor says with a laugh. “I know he, like, translated Edgar Allan Poe into French. That shit’s not exactly upbeat.”

 

They keep talking about French poetry and Edgar Allen Poe and books and end up drinking an awful lot of cocktails. It’s really easy to talk to Parker, Connor thinks, and he’s honestly surprised at how comfortable he feels. He’s not usually comfortable just sitting and talking to people like this, especially virtual strangers, but Parker’s nice and he’s smart and the conversation is interesting, and Connor actually likes it. 

 

It kind of reminds him of a night that never happened where he and Evan got very, very drunk at Tipsy McStagger’s and talked about books for literal hours. 

 

It’s not quite the same, but it’s… like that, Connor thinks. More comfortable than normal. 

 

Evan’s the only person he’s felt really comfortable around for years, but he thinks maybe he might get there with Parker, given time. 

 

That’s a weird thing to think about, and it kind of makes him feel a little cold, even though it’s warm in the bar. 

 

As they both get drunker, Parker’s hand movements get more and more intense as he’s describing a particularly ridiculous essay a student handed in for a class he’s TA-ing at NYU, and Connor’s always enjoyed people who talk with their hands, because he totally gets why you’d want something to do with your hands. 

 

He remembers Evan lamenting the fact that he never knows what to do with his hands, or his feet, and that a lot of the time he just feels like he’s missed some kind of vital information that everyone else knows about the appropriate things to do with body parts in public and is afraid that everyone’s looking at him weirdly because he’s doing it wrong, he’s doing the whole ‘being a person’ thing wrong, and honestly Connor remembers never having felt more understood than in that moment. 

 

Connor downs the rest of his fifth, maybe sixth cocktail and reminds himself that thinking about his best friend slash fuckbuddy while on a date is probably bad form. 

 

Parker is hot. 

 

Like, really, really hot. He’s got dark hair and dark eyes and he’s a little shorter than Connor and he’s got these really great cheekbones and broad shoulders and he’s wearing a leather jacket and a soft looking sweater and honestly, he is very, very attractive. 

 

Eventually they leave the bar, but Parker doesn’t seem like he wants to stop hanging out with Connor. “Should we eat something?” he suggests, a little shyly. “I, uh, I drank more than I meant to, this is embarrassing.”

 

“Come back to my place,” Connor offers, because this is usually how dates go. “I can make you a grilled cheese.” 

 

Parker grins, and Connor really, really likes his grin, and soon they’re in a cab headed back to The Little Book Nook, and then Connor’s unlocking the door to the store and disarming the alarm and Parker’s eyes light up when he realizes where they are, and Connor turns a light on so he can look around some. 

 

“Oh man,” says Parker, sounding like a kid in a candy shop, “I can’t believe you live above a bookstore, that’s amazing, oh my god.”

 

“It’s great,” says Connor with a grin. “I, uh, I’m buying the place? I’ll officially own it in August.”

 

Parker stares at him for a moment in disbelief, then laughs. “That’s amazing. Oh my god.”

 

Eventually they head upstairs, and Connor’s glad that he did actually tidy up beforehand, because he may not have gone on a date before but he has met guys in bars and brought them home, so this bit he knows, this bit he can do. He opens up his fridge and pulls out some cheese and some butter and Parker offers to help slice up cheese but he’s drunker than Connor so Connor doesn’t think it’s the safest idea, so instead Parker has a couple of glasses of water and kind of lounges against the counter. 

 

Connor has a good look at him while he waits for the grilled cheese to cook. Parker’s hair is dark and curly and kind of adorable and he has dimples when he smiles and he is honestly extremely objectively attractive. 

 

Connor’s very, very aware that this man is objectively very attractive. And smart and funny and a good conversationalist and… basically perfect, really. On paper perfect. 

 

They sit and eat grilled cheese sandwiches at Connor’s kitchen table, still making conversation easily, and Parker’s smiling a lot and he’s sitting awfully close to Connor and then, in a move that’s unexpected yet somehow entirely logical, Parker kisses him. 

 

He tastes like cheese and bourbon and something kind of… orange, and Connor almost unconsciously pulls him closer to kiss him properly, and they make out for a while, and Parker’s hands are all over him and it’s nice and it’s warm and this man is… honest to god beautiful, and a part of Connor just wants to drag him into his bedroom but there’s something not quite right and he can’t figure it out. 

 

“I know it’s bad form for a first date,” Parker murmurs in Connor’s ear after kissing his neck, “but I wouldn’t mind moving this to the bedroom.”

 

Parker kisses his neck again and Connor shivers a little. 

 

And then he pulls away and he’s not sure why. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and there’s a part of him, probably the part located below his belt, that can’t believe he’s actually saying this. 

 

Parker smiles at him, and he doesn’t look disappointed at all. “Not a problem,” he says with an easy smile. 

 

They sit there for a moment. 

 

“I should get home,” Parker says, a little apologetic. “But thank you for the grilled cheese.”

 

“Thank you for drinks.”

 

Connor walks Parker down the stairs and through the bookstore and waits with him until his Lyft home arrives. Parker kisses him quickly before he gets in. “I had a great time,” he says warmly, and waves at Connor through the back window of the car as he leaves. 

 

Connor heads back into the store. Arms the alarm, turns off the lights, locks up.

 

Then heads back to his apartment, takes his meds and heads to bed, his brain still full of questions. 

 

Surprisingly, he falls asleep quickly. 

* * *

“It’s after eight o’clock on a Friday night, what the hell are you still doing here?” Mariah said, standing outside of Evan’s office door.

“Spare me, pot, this kettle’s busy.”

“Actually busy or I don’t want to go home busy?” Mariah asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of Evan’s desk. 

“I’m gonna take the fifth on that one.”

“I’m avoiding going home too, don’t worry,” She said easily. “Bex and I had a fight.”

“Bex, the cute clerk? You two are going out?”

“Bro, you have got to leave this office more. I brought her to Louise’s baby shower?”

“Wasn’t invited to the baby shower on the grounds of having a penis,” Evan said, “Remember?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way dude, but I sometimes kinda put you in the ‘honorary girl’ category because you’re not a meathead like Asher and Charles. I caught them literally arm wrestling last week, it's a tragedy that they're both gay. But I sort of forgot about the whole baby shower thing.”

Evan smiled at that. “Thanks? I still sent Louise a present though. Just to make her feel a  _ little _ bit bad for not inviting me.”

“Very nice,” Mariah said. “Very nice indeed.”

“Why are you fighting with Bex?”

“Her parents are Republicans who put her in conversion therapy as a kid,” Mariah said with a sigh. “She wants me to meet them but I’m not sure I can, like, legally speaking. Because I hear that’s considered premeditated murder.”

Evan definitely saw her point there. “Yeah I wouldn’t meet them either.”

“I mean, my parents are immigrants and it took them a good few years to get comfy with me being into chicks, but like in a… awkward conversation at the dinner table kind of way. Not in a shitty violent way.” Mariah shrugged, then sucked in a deep breath saying, “So. I’ve got a bottle of Jack in my desk and I don’t feel feel like drinking alone.”

“I’ve just been looking at wikipedia for the last half and hour, honestly,” Evan admitted. He turned his screen to show her that he was reading a page about sea otters. “I’ll drink with you.”

“Not gonna share your reason for being here?”

Evan shrugged. “Just. Stupid personal shit.”

“Ugh, sucks. Jack can fix that.”

“Jack’s a good guy,” Evan said, smiling. He followed Mariah to her office where she cracked open the whiskey and poured them each a sizeable amount. “To having no life outside of work?” Evan suggested as a toast. “Or at least faking it?”

“To Republicans!” Mariah said, tapping her glass against Evan’s. She downed it in one go. “Ugh, should have gotten ice.”

“I could go to the breakroom?”

“I can ovary up and go without,” Mariah said. “You sure you don’t want to tell me what you’re hiding from? We can get all sharey carey. Maybe make out a bit?”

Evan finished his drink. “I don’t think Bex will like that.”

“Bex can… ugh. Go away. It’s not even her fault I’m just mad.” Mariah frowned. “But really. Boy problems? Girl problems? Roommate issues?”

“It’s stupid,” Evan said, holding his glass as Mariah poured him another drink. “Like enormously, can’t-believe-I-am-this-dumb-I-have-a-law-degree, stupid.”

“So it’s Connor?”

“Yeah, it’s Connor,” Evan said glumly, taking a big drink. “Of course it’s Connor, I am _not_ subtle.” Evan cleared his throat. “He’s on a date? He like. Asked if I liked his outfit before he went and I totally ignored him because I’m the worst.”

“Is it a bad outfit?”

“No. It’s a good outfit.” Connor was wearing his slightly too tight jeans and a blazer Evan liked and his hair looked good and that was the problem. “The guy he’s out with is like. Stupid hot.”

“How hot?”

Evan frowned, pulling out his phone. “If I admit that I have looked through his entire instragram to you, will you judge me?”

“Only if he’s not actually hot,” Mariah said, and she took Evan’s phone and scrolled through a few pictures, frowning. “Okay. No judgment. That’s an attractive man.”

“Yeah.” Evan took a gulp of his drink. “Like took at him. He’s perfect. And Canadian! He’s perfect and he’s Canadian and he’s got fucking dimples  _ and _ universal health care. What the fuck.”

“And he’s on a date with your man.”

“Connor’s not my man,” Evan said, backtracking. “He’s my best friend, though and I… I just don’t like this and I don’t like that I don’t like this.”

“You can be jealous. This is a safe space. Attorney client privilege.”

Evan laughed. “Mariah, I say this with love, but how the fuck did you pass the bar?”

She giggled. “I probably cheated, who knows what the hell happened during that exam.” Mariah reached over and topped off their glasses. “We’re having… Boy-girl problems. Fuck, we need something gender neutral. Bae problems?”

“Ugh I will never use the word ‘bae’ seriously,” Evan said, shaking his head.

“Oh nobody asked you Patrice,” Mariah said with a smile. She poured them each another drink. “To bae problems!”

Before he got too drunk, Evan texted Connor back, thinking Connor would buy that Evan was still working so late on a Friday. Nothing he hadn’t done before. He kept the text brief,  _ “I think that’s fine.” _

He considered this and thought maybe it seemed a bit… hostile. So Evan added, “ _ You look nice.” _

And then finally, “ _ Have fun.” _

Because he hated himself, apparently. 

Mariah and Evan moved their drinks out of the office when the cleaners showed up around ten thirty. They went to a bar across the street, and Evan switched over to water after one last whiskey, then ordered a Lyft to get Mariah and himself back home because she was pretty drunk and also tried to throw her heels at a man who said he liked them, saying, “Take my symbols of patriarchal enslavement then!”

That was time to go. Not that she didn’t have a point, but more because Evan didn’t think she had other shoes on her. He walked Mariah up to her apartment and she joked that he was, “Such a gentleman.”

“I’m not kissing you goodnight,” Evan said, smirking. “Do not call Bex once you get inside, okay?”

“As long as you don’t text Connor either.”

“Deal.”

Evan broke that deal within twenty minutes of getting home, texting Connor,  _ “How did it go?” _

Then he realized, well, it wasn’t that late. Maybe the date was still happening. 

_ “Or how is it going, if you’re still out?” _

He didn’t get a response and felt kind of shitty about the whole thing again. Of course, he wanted Connor to have a nice time on his date. Evan was his friend. He wanted Connor happy. 

He just. 

Ugh. Fuck. 

He just wished he had never said anything. 

* * *

 

 

Connor sleeps until midday. When he wakes up, he’s got two messages from Evan from last night. 

 

**How did it go?**

**Or how is it going, if you’re still out?**

  
  


Connor doesn’t really know how to answer that, so he just leaves it for the time being. He has a quick shower, tying up his hair so he doesn’t have to wash it again, then decides he should go get some groceries, so heads out through the store and says hi to Leslie and checks if she needs anything while he’s out. 

 

He gets back to the bookstore an hour later, canvas bags full of groceries, and brings Leslie a coffee because she’d looked tired. She accepts it gratefully, then he heads upstairs and unpacks and finally texts Evan back. 

 

**It was fine**

**You busy today?**

**Up for some more Parks and Rec?**

 

Evan texts back pretty soon after. 

 

**Sounds good**

**I’ll see you soon**

 

Connor puts on some laundry and has every intention of doing the dishes from last night before Evan arrives, but he doesn’t quite manage it because Evan’s there quicker than he expects. He lets Evan in when he knocks. Evan puts a canvas bag on the table and then kind of… stares at the two plates still sitting there, covered in grilled cheese crumbs. 

 

Connor picks them up and puts them in the sink and tries not to focus on the weird expression on Evan’s face.

 

“So,” says Evan, his voice bright but a little forced, “how was it?”

 

“Fine,” says Connor immediately. Evan looks at him. “Good. He was… nice.”

 

“Good. I’m glad.”

 

Connor takes the dirty frying pan off the stovetop and puts it in the sink and starts running hot water, to let it soak for a while. 

 

Evan pulls a box of microwave popcorn out of his bag and kind of waves it around. Connor nods and Evan opens the box and puts a packet in the microwave. He stands and watches it and Connor busies himself doing the dishes as quickly as he can. He’s just finished filling up the sink when Evan speaks.

 

“Did you sleep with him?”

 

Connor blinks. “What?”

 

“Parker. Did you sleep with him?” Connor just looks at Evan in confusion, not really sure why he’s asking or why for some reason, Connor doesn’t really want to answer. “It’s just that there were two plates so it’s pretty obvious he was here, and of course you can sleep with whoever you want, I just want to know if we need to go and get tested or whatever or if that… wasn’t going to be an issue because it went well and I wouldn’t have to worry about it because we wouldn’t be… you know,” Evan continues in a rush. 

 

“I didn’t sleep with him,” Connor said after a moment, because… 

 

Well, he didn’t. 

 

Also, the idea of never having sex with Evan again is just… not something he wants to consider. 

 

Evan blinks. “It’s okay if you did-”

 

“I didn’t,” Connor says firmly. 

 

Evan looks like he’s about to say something, but then the popping starts going faster in the microwave and he refocuses his attention. 

 

Connor finally processes Evan’s words. “I didn’t sleep with him,” he says again, slower this time. “And it’s… look, he was nice, but I don’t think I’ll see him again.”

 

It’s only as he’s saying the words that he realizes he actually means them. Parker was great. He was really great. 

 

But it didn’t feel right and Connor doesn’t know why.

 

“Oh,” says Evan, pulling the popcorn out of the microwave. 

 

They sit on the sofa in the lounge and watch TV for the rest of the afternoon, and that’s the end of that conversation. 

 

On Sunday morning, Connor gets a text from Parker. 

 

**Hey Connor :) just wanted to let you know I had a really nice time on Friday. I’d love to see you again if you’re interested? Maybe we could grab dinner - not that I had any complaints about your grilled cheese, of course! All the best, Parker.**

 

Connor doesn’t reply on Sunday. 

 

He doesn’t reply on Monday, either. Or Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday. 

 

The week goes by and then another week goes by, and Connor’s busy with the store and Evan’s busy, too. Apparently he’s got a big case coming up, which Connor doesn’t know a lot about because Evan’s been too busy to tell him, which feels kind of weird because, well, Connor likes knowing the details of Evan’s life, even if he knows nothing about law and how it all works. 

 

Evan shows up at the bookstore two weeks after Connor’s date with Parker, ten minutes before closing, with Thai food and a bottle of whisky. Connor sends him upstairs while he locks up the store, then heads back to his apartment to find that Evan’s got plates and glasses out and is set up at the kitchen table. 

 

It’s a normal conversation at first. Connor wants to know what’s been going on with Evan’s case, and Evan tells him all about it, and Evan wants to know how the bookstore’s doing, and Connor tells him about the open mic they’re hosting the next weekend, and they eat Thai food and drink whisky and catch up and it’s nice. 

 

It’s really, really nice. 

 

“So, did you ever see that guy again?” Evan asks, his tone casual. “Peter?”

 

“Parker,” Connor corrects, then kind of grins because of the accidental Spider-Man joke, and shakes his head. “Nah. We just… didn’t hit it off, I guess.”

 

“Really?” Evan asks, and he sounds a bit less casual now. “I mean, you invited him back to your apartment. Doesn’t sound like you didn’t hit it off.”

 

“I mean, yeah,” Connor tries to explain. “I made him a grilled cheese, we’d had a lot to drink, but we didn’t… he went home.”

 

Evan takes a sip of his whisky. “It’s just weird that you invited him back to your place if you didn’t like him,” he says, and Connor has no idea why he’s pushing this. “I mean, you showed me his photo. He was hot. And smart, if he’s doing his Masters at NYU. And you probably had a ton in common.”

 

“We did,” Connor says, trying to figure out how to change the subject. “It just wasn’t… I don’t know.”

 

“Did he text you or anything?” Evan continues. “Try to set up a second date?”

 

“Okay, fine,” Connor snaps. “He texted me a few days later and asked if I wanted to have dinner with him and I didn’t reply. I haven’t replied, and it’s been two weeks, which is really fucking rude. I told you I’m garbage, right? That I was going to suck at dating? I told you I was going to suck at this and guess what - I did! There was no fucking reason why I shouldn’t have just gone to dinner with him when he asked, I just didn’t text him back and ghosted him like an asshole because I. Don’t. Date. And apparently, there’s a good reason why I don’t date. I’m really fucking bad at it! So you can’t give me any more shit about logic or whatever, okay? I can say I’m bad at dating because I tried it and I failed. Are you happy?”

 

Evan looks… a little shocked. It takes a moment for him to respond. “I’m not… I’m not happy it didn’t work out,” he says, and he’s frowning a little. “I want  _ you _ to be happy. That’s… that’s all I want.”

 

Connor feels himself deflate. “I’m happy with how things are now,” he says, looking at Evan pointedly. “I’m happy with you. You’re my best friend and we have amazing sex and that’s fine, that’s fucking fantastic. I don’t need to be dating. I only tried it because you wanted me to.”

 

Evan blinks. “You did?”

 

Connor frowns. “Why else would I do it?”

 

“Because you’ve only had sex with me for a whole year and you wanted to shake things up?” Evan says, in a tone that’s almost teasing but not quite. 

 

Connor actually laughs at that. “When has sex with you ever been boring?” 

* * *

 

If there was a handbook called _ How To Look Like A Jealous Piece of Garbage, _ Evan might as well have written it. What the hell was the matter with him, interrogating Connor like that? Evan had no right, absolutely no right, to be jealous when he was the one who told Connor to go find a date. And now he was still, weeks later, trying to shake off this gnawing sense that Connor was bored with him, that Connor was going on adorable dates that ended in making grilled cheese and lying to Evan about it, that he was secretly fucking some hot grad student named Parker, and once while Evan was in the middle of an embarrassingly deep dive into Parker’s fucking Instagram, he got irrationally angry just thinking about the possibility of this perfect-cheekbone-y Canadian touching Connor with his hands. 

And it wasn’t really any better when he learned that Connor had ghosted Perfect Parker, because… 

Really he could only blame himself for this. 

He’d been the one to push Connor to go and try dating out of some pathetic, self-loathing belief that Connor needed to just go and see what was out there and then. Something would happen. Like he was going to come running to Evan and confess his deep feelings for  him after all this time. 

Evan was a moron. 

And it wasn’t like he could just go talk to someone about this. How could he? Half of the people he knew didn’t know he and Connor were sleeping together and the people who did would probably just say “I told you so.”

And really, like, there wasn’t much of a point in telling Connor because… Connor didn’t feel that way about him. Evan knew that pretty certainly. And, more importantly, he didn’t date. So even if Evan were to try and suggest that… Connor would turn him down. There was no way Connor wanted…

Evan would just be happy and take what he could get. Connor was a great friend and he was really awesome in bed and if Evan’s brain could see this logically, it would know that Connor as his friend was better than no Connor at all but. Still. He felt stupid. He’d been holding this in for months now for a good reason and now he knew with absolute certainty that he had been right and. 

Evan had been right. Connor was his best friend and they had awesome sex and he shouldn’t have pushed the issue. That was his fault and he had made himself feel shitty. 

He just needed to get over this… thing. Go back to how it was when it first started when Evan had affection for Connor but not, like, Feelings with a capital F. He could do that. He had fallen out of love before, it wasn’t so bad…

Fuck that was pathetic. 

“You good?” Connor asked him after a few minutes. 

“Yes,” Evan answered quickly. “I mean. No. Honestly. Sorry. I just. I feel like shit that I pushed you into dating when you didn’t want to? Like that was seriously uncool of me and I’m really sorry for doing that I just-”

“Evan,” Connor interrupted and he was really grateful. “It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. It’s a useful thing to know that I’m bad at dating anyway. Simplifies things.”

“Yeah. Keeping things simple is… good,” Evan said. His throat felt too tight, suddenly, like there was something caught in his windpipe and he cleared his throat a couple of times and then said. “Sorry I just… Bathroom.” He stood up, walked to the bathroom, closed the door softly and pinched the bridge of his nose until the horrible sinking feeling that he might fucking cry or something passed. He splashed some cold water on his face and stared into the mirror, into his reflection, silently commanding himself to get his shit together. 

When he stepped out of the bathroom, he sat beside Connor again and asked if it was okay if they just hung out. “Sorry, I’m just… really exhausted. Fr-from work?”

“Yeah, it’s chill,” Connor said, smiling a little sympathetically. 

The thing was that Evan didn’t just want to hang out and watch television. He wanted to drag Connor back to his bedroom and fuck him, he wanted to kiss every inch of Connor, he wanted to mark him like some kind of animal, leaving proof that Connor was his everywhere, and when he was finished he wanted to bury his face in Connor’s neck and just sleep because that was the place he felt safest. He wanted to stay over, to do the stuff that felt weirdly intimate when another person was present, like brush his teeth while Connor brushed his own beside him, or be able to put his arm around Connor on the sofa, just to have him close by, just to feel Connor breathing next to him. 

But Connor wasn’t his. And cuddling up to him would just make things more confusing and difficult. So Evan kept his hands to himself, trying to focus as best as he could on whatever it was that they were watching and losing track of the plot pretty quickly. Evan mostly just watched Connor, out of the corner of his eye, relaxed and comfortable, smiling sometimes or laughing so Evan would laugh too. He was the best person Evan knew and this thing he was carrying around put that in jeopardy. So he just had to… let it go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the person who commented thanking us for not ONLY writing pining last chapter... Sorry.


	14. April (One Year and Two Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What about a cactus screams romance, exactly?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R-E-A-D T-H-E T-A-G-S! What's that spell? Read the tags!

April (One Year and Two Months After)

“Mexican? Turkish? Italian? Indian?”

 

“Whatever you want.”

 

“Evan.”

 

“I’m serious. Whatever you want.”

 

“You have to make a decision.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it’s your birthday.”

 

Evan rolls his eyes at Connor from where he’s lying with his head on the pillow, completely naked after a round of enthusiastic sex. “It’s not my birthday until Monday,” he says. 

 

“It’s your birthday weekend,” Connor counters.

 

“It’s Friday.”

 

“That’s when the weekend  _ starts.” _

 

Evan sighs, then looks at Connor with a grin. “Okay, I’ve made a decision.”

 

“Great,” says Connor. “What is it?”

 

“I’ve decided that you get to decide.”

 

“That is… not a decision.”

 

Evan laughs. “It so is!”

 

“Oh my god,” says Connor with a laugh of his own. “Fucking lawyers.” He sits up and reaches for his phone. “Okay, just for that, we’re getting Thai.”

 

“Perfect,” says Evan, sounding far too pleased with himself. 

 

“I’m ordering pad thai, and that yellow curry with the sweet potatoes because it’s awesome, and ginger chicken and beef panang  _ and _ I’m getting money bags and spring rolls as well.”

 

Evan’s eyes narrow. “That’s way too much food for two of us.”

 

“You said it was my decision,” Connor retorts with a grin of his own. “This way I’ll know you have leftovers for the rest of the weekend.” Evan sighs dramatically and Connor reaches out and ruffles his hair, which is adorably messy from sex. “Happy Birthday weekend.”

 

“Birthday weekends are not a thing!” Evan says as Connor places the order online. After a minute, Evan gets up and stretches a little. There’s a mark on his neck that’s looks like it’s getting darker by the minute, and… oops. 

 

Connor just… watches Evan for a moment as he stretches, admiring his shoulders and his chest and how relaxed he looks after sex, which Connor’s always not-so-secretly proud of, because of all people, Evan could use some relaxation. 

 

Evan catches Connor looking at him and goes a little pink, then smiles at him, almost shyly considering he had Connor’s dick in his mouth twenty minutes ago. “I’m gonna go shower,” he says. “I won’t be long, okay?”

 

“Neither will the food,” Connor says with a grin. “Bonus of ordering food at like, 10pm.”

 

Evan wraps a towel around his waist and Connor personally thinks it’s a crime to hide such an excellent specimen of a penis, but feels like if he says that out loud Evan’s going to think he’s being weird. Evan grabs some clean clothes then heads to the bathroom and Connor lies down on Evan’s bed for a moment and breathes in, enjoying the fact that it smells like Evan. 

 

Well, mostly like sex, but definitely like Evan. 

 

He’s being really weird today, he realizes, and he’s not exactly sure why. 

 

After a while, he throws on his boxers and his t-shirt and a flannel shirt over. He thinks about putting on his jeans but they’ve ordered food, he’ll be here a bit longer and he knows for a fact that Alex and Mattie are on the night shift, so… skinny jeans can wait. 

 

He does put on socks, though. 

 

The doorbell rings, and it must be the food, so Connor hits the button to let them into the building, and then a few minutes later there’s a knock on the door, so he goes to open it, intended to just grab the food as quickly as possible. 

 

Instead, Connor is face to face with Heidi Hansen. 

 

In his boxers. 

 

Fuck. Fucking hell. 

 

“Hi,” he says, knowing he must have gone bright red. “I, uh, I guess you’re here to see Evan?”

 

“I am,” she says, clearly amused. Connor notes that she’s got a small bag with her. “I thought I’d surprise him for his birthday weekend.”

 

“That’s… that’s really cool,” says Connor, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him. “He’s, uh, he’s in the shower.”

 

“Is the food here already?” Evan’s voice calls out. “That’s fast, considering how much food you - Mom?”

 

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” says Heidi, and she heads straight for Evan and pulls him into a hug. “It’s so good to see you.” 

 

“I didn’t know you were coming!” says Evan, and he keeps hugging his mom and glares at Connor over his shoulder, comically gesturing with his head for Connor to go put some fucking pants on, which he immediately goes to do. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Fuuuuuuuuuuuck. 

 

Connor’s hands are shaking a little, so it takes a bit longer to get his pants on than it would normally. He can hear the doorbell again, and by the time he’s got his jeans on and has managed to get his cheeks back to a normal color, he can also hear the door being opened. 

 

He heads to the kitchen to where Heidi and Evan are setting out the food and plates and Connor can’t help but look at Evan, a little bit smugly. “Glad I ordered way too much food now?”

 

“I ate before the flight,” Heidi confesses, “but I have to admit I’m hungry again.” She puts her bag down. “Do you mind if I just use the bathroom quickly?”

 

“Sure,” says Evan, who is glaring at Connor, and once his mom is out of the room Evan’s eyes widen. “Why would you answer the door in your boxers, Connor, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

 

“I lived with Andi for years!” Connor retorts. “I am completely desensitized to nudity now. Blame her!” 

 

“I can’t believe my  _ mom _ saw you in your underwear,” Evan says, sounding more than a little panicked. “Fuck, how do I… fuck, now I have to explain that we’re… fuck.”

 

Connor winces. “I’m so sorry, Evan, I had no idea.”

 

“Neither did I,” Evan says, a little wearily. 

 

“It’s nice that she’s here, though?” says Connor, because, well… he likes Heidi. He thinks she’s really sweet, and seems like a really good mom. 

 

“It is,” says Evan and his face softens a lot, and he’s smiling fondly. “It’s just like her to surprise me like this, too. Even though birthday weekends still aren’t a thing.”

 

“I stand by my original take on your mom,” says Connor with a grin. “Super cute.”

 

“I like your hand soap,” says Heidi as she comes back into the room. “It smells great.” She smiles at both of them, then picks up a plate and starts loading it up with Thai food. “Ooh, money bags, I love these.”

 

“Everything’s kosher,” Connor assures her, and Heidi’s smile widens even more. 

 

“Connor’s really good at making sure,” says Evan with a smile, a smile that’s directed at Connor, and Connor really likes it, and he can see that Heidi’s smiling as well. 

 

“It’s not hard,” Connor says with a shrug as he serves himself up some food, even though he’s definitely smiling as well. 

 

“It’s appreciated,” says Heidi, her voice fond. “Thank you, Connor.” She has a bite of the yellow curry and her eyes widen. “This is good, are those sweet potatoes?”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor with a nod. “It’s great, huh?”

 

“Really good,” says Heidi, nodding empathically. “Connor, you have to tell me more about the bookstore. It’s not long now until it’s officially yours, that’s so exciting!”

 

“Yeah, I take over properly in August,” he says, before taking a bite out of a money bag. He chews carefully before swallowing, which is a habit he has managed to maintain ever since he died from choking on garlic bread over a year ago, and continues. “Evan’s been incredible. He’s helped so much with all of the contracts and the legal advice.”

 

“I’ve barely done anything,” says Evan, face pink as he picks up some pad thai with his fork. 

 

“Lies,” says Connor cheerfully. “He’s been great. A+. If there was, like, a lawyer Yelp, I’d give him… whatever means good on Yelp, I don’t use it so I don’t know.”

 

Heidi is beaming as she eats her curry and keeps looking between the two of them happily, and Connor’s suddenly hit with the feeling that she thinks that they’re a couple. 

 

Which, okay, a lot of people seem to assume that he and Evan are a couple, which he guess makes sense because they’re close and they do have a lot of sex, but…

 

If there’s anything that Connor’s dating fiasco last month taught him is that he’s terrible at dating, and Evan deserves far, far better. 

 

Heidi starts asking Evan questions about work and Evan’s answering them easily, and he seems relaxed and calm and Connor feels like it’s different from the last time Heidi visited, when they were just a few days removed from the never-ending deaths, and Evan had been so stressed out. It’s obvious that Evan adores his mom and that his mom loves him a ton, and that makes Connor really happy, because Evan is great. 

 

Connor finishes up his plate of food, then goes to get his bag and his jacket from Evan’s room and puts on his shoes. When he gets back into the kitchen, Heidi looks a little disappointed. “You’re leaving?”

 

“I’ll let you guys catch up,” he says with a smile, and Evan sends him a look he can’t quite decipher. “It’s really nice seeing you, Heidi. Sorry, uh, sorry for the rude welcome.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” says Heidi with a laugh, and she insists on hugging Connor before he leaves, and Connor notes that Heidi’s almost as good a hugger as her son. 

 

Evan offers to walk Connor down the stairs, and throws on his own shoes in a hurry. Once they’re out of the building, Evan looks apologetic. 

 

“I swear, I didn’t know she was coming-”

 

“It’s great that she’s here,” Connor insists. He smiles. “You see me all the time, you deserve to have some quality time with your mom.”

 

“I’m sorry she basically interrogated you about the store,” says Evan as they make their way down the stairs. 

 

Connor laughs. “Are you kidding? That’s not interrogation. Remember dinner with my dad last year?”

 

Evan rolls his eyes. “I’d rather not, thanks.”

 

“Do you know how long she’s staying?” Connor asks, and Evan shakes his head. Connor nods. “Okay. Well… if she’s not here on your actual birthday, can I take you out for dinner?”

 

Evan blinks, then smiles, and he’s gone a little pink. “Sure.”

 

“Great,” says Connor. They’re at the front door of the building, and Evan hits the button to let him out, and Connor really wants to just… lean in and kiss him goodnight, but that would be weird and he’s really fucking weird tonight, he needs to get a grip. “Have a good time hanging out with your cute mom.”

 

Evan rolls his eyes, then grins. “I’ll Venmo you for the Thai food.”

 

“No you won’t!” says Connor cheerfully as he heads out into the night. 

* * *

 

Evan took a deep breath just inside the door of his building, gathering himself because he had shifted gears so fast he felt like half of him was still stuck two hours ago when he was having sex with Connor and that was not going to work if he was going to be hanging out with his mom. 

He took a second to physically shake himself before he headed up the stairs. His mom was putting away the containers of Thai food, commenting happily that they were all made from recycled plastic and Evan couldn’t help himself, he pulled her into another tight hug as soon as she was done in the fridge. 

“I’m really really glad to see you,” He said, and she rested her chin on his shoulder, something she had done ever since he was tall enough for that and laughed. 

“I just… it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to celebrate with you on your birthday.”

“Yeah,” Evan said, finally letting go of her. Evan thought it had probably been in high school. Maybe the first year of college. 

“Not that you want to gossip and talk about boys with your old mom, but how long has this thing with Connor been happening? You haven’t said anything!”

Evan felt his face get hot. “There’s not really a thing with Connor,” he said, shrugging. “We’re just friends.”

“Sweetheart, I love you, but none of my friends ever hung around my place in their underwear while I showered,” His mom said, eyebrows up. “So come on. Spill.”

“Really, there’s nothing to spill -”

“Evan. You have a hickey on your neck. I think you’re old enough now that we don’t have to keep pretending neither of us knows what sex is.”

“But it was a lot easier that way,” Evan whined a little dramatically, and his mom smiled and he smiled back. They had also played this game with Sabrina, and the girl he had very briefly dated before her, Carly, and a little bit when Evan sort of-kind of went out with Jared Kleinman only to get stood up for the prom. Apparently, two days from twenty eight was where his mother drew the line. “He’s just. Connor’s my best friend and we sometimes… hook up.”

“Is that so?” Evan’s mom said, eyebrows up. 

“It’s just a casual thing,” Evan said, shaking his head. “And I’ve officially hit my quota on mortifying conversations to have with my mother for the evening, so, let’s talk about something else.”

His mom smiled amiably and, thankfully, moved on. “You seem really happy, honey.”

“I, uh. Yeah? I mean, I dunno, things aren’t exactly perfect but I feel like I’m in a better spot than I was last year.” That was true in a lot of ways, though being more than a year removed from all of those times he had died was absolutely the occupying the most space in Evan’s brain. 

“I’m glad. I really am.” 

They talked for a long time. His mom detailed her somewhat harrowing journey to the airport back home because her friend Carol who had offered to give her a ride got a flat tire and Evan’s mom almost didn’t make it through security in time. By which she meant that she only got through the line with thirty minutes to spare, versus her prefered fifty. “I didn’t even have time to have a drink before I boarded the plane!”

“That sounds really stressful,” Evan said, nodding. 

“It ended up not being so bad. I got the whole row to myself on my way here.”

“Oh nice!”

Evan asked after her friends back home, and she said she had been in touch with a few people she hadn’t seen since college after bumping into them at a bar recently and then, with no small amount of blushing, told him that her old friend Chris wanted to set her up on a date. 

“Mom, oh my god, you should go!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” She said, but she was smiling. “Do people even go on dates anymore? Or is it all just… hook ups and whatever?”

“Uncalled for,” Evan said with a smile. “Below the belt. Rude. Ouch.”

His mom smiled triumphantly. “I think… I think I’ll go. Can’t hurt right?”

“Right.” Evan frowned a little. “But absolutely text me if you need me to fake an emergency.”

“Oh, obviously. You’re the best excuse in the book, kid,” She said affectionately. “Oh man I remember when you were about ten and Rebecca Kleinman insisted on settling me up with Paul Schwartz? Worst date I’ve ever been on, bar none. He tried to feel me up while we were at the bar waiting for a table!”

“Oh my god, gross,” Evan said, wrinkling his nose. 

“I know. I was so embarrassed, and then he made a big fuss about ordering the most expensive thing on the menu and I was so relieved when the sitter called and said you needed me to come home. I left him with the bill and everything!”

Evan nodded, smiling, because he had a vague memory of that night. “Oh my god I remember that!” He laughed a little. “I had just finished the first Harry Potter book and I was totally convinced that something might happen to you while you were out and then I’d get stuck living with dad and he’d, like, make he stay in a cupboard under the stairs.” Evan’s smiled faded then because… well. That was not a normal childhood fear he was describing. He was so convinced it was true he had forced the sitter to call his mom, hyperventilating and begging, and he got on the phone himself and cried and begged her to to come home so he could be sure she was alive and okay. 

It was hard, just then, to realize how much of his life had just been consumed by his anxiety. “I guess I was a pretty anxious kid, huh?” He said, kind of lamely. 

His mom took his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “You were. But you also really sweet. And so smart! God, Evan, I couldn’t keep up with your assignments once you finished the fifth grade.” She having his hand another squeeze. “You were a lot more than just an anxious kid, honey.”

He nodded.

“When we talked at Thanksgiving, you said you were still working with that therapist?” His mom said gently. 

“Yeah,” Evan said. “It’s actually… I think it’s really helped, like, a lot?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. My therapist… she’s this really tough no-nonsense older lady? She’s great. And sort of frustrating sometimes, because she doesn’t let me get away with anything. But I like her. And the medication I’m on, I’ve been taking it for a little while, and it’s working pretty well.”

“That’s… that’s really great honey. I’m so proud of you.”

Evan felt his face get warm. “Thanks.” 

“I know that it… it took a lot of time for you to get to a place where you could ask for help,” His mom said softly. “But I’m really glad you got there.”

“Thanks,” Evan said, looking down at his lap, and they sat there for a while, just being quiet and being with each other. It was nice. Evan was struck by just how much he missed his mom when she wasn’t around. It was something he go used to as more time went by without them seeing each other, but when she was here it was an acute ache. He missed getting to see her and talk to her and laugh with her. He found himself frustrated by how often he took that for granted before he moved away for school.

“I’m sorry Alex and Mattie aren’t around,” Evan said apologetically, shifting the subject. “If I’d known you were coming I would have given them a heads up.”

“Oh they know,” She said with a smile. “I asked them if it was alright. They thought you’d like the surprise.”

“I do!” Evan said. 

“Maybe I’ll call just to be safe next time,” She teased and Evan rolled his eyes and groaned. 

“If I’d known you were coming, I would have made sure at the very least that Connor had pants on!”

She smiled at him. “I know.” His mom’s face went thoughtful for a moment. “I think he’s good for you.”

“Mom,” Evan said, his cheeks flaming. “We’re not together.”

“Doesn’t matter if the relationship is romantic,” She said, shrugging. “I think he’s good for you. I like him.”

“Yeah,” Evan said softly. “Me too.”

* * *

 

 

Evan’s busy with his mom all weekend, and it kind of leaves Connor at a bit of a loss. Not that he doesn’t want Evan to spend time with his mom, he’s just gotten used to spending weekends with Evan, and it’s weird not to see him. 

 

So when Evan texts him to let him know that Heidi’s got an early morning flight home on Monday morning and Evan will, in fact, be free for dinner for his birthday, Connor immediately asks Leslie if she minds working until closing so he can leave work early. 

 

Leslie’s all smiles when she arrives at work on Monday. “Tell Evan happy birthday from me,” she says, and Connor thinks back to how she and Evan had kissed under the mistletoe at Christmas and briefly wonders if she’s still entertaining a crush on Evan, but she’s not blushing the way she was when she talked about him in December, so Connor thinks that ship has probably sailed. 

 

Which is kind of a relief, to be honest. Not that Connor blames Leslie for having a crush on Evan, because Evan is really fucking great, but it’s just… 

 

It’s just a relief. 

 

Connor gets changed into something nicer than what he worked in when he finishes around 5, and texts Evan to see how he’s doing. Evan says he’s still at work, which doesn’t surprise Connor at all, but it’s Evan’s birthday and Connor’s not about to let him work late on his birthday. 

 

He picks up Evan’s birthday presents from his kitchen table then heads down to the store and orders a Lyft to Evan’s office. Leslie looks at him as he stops by the counter and nods in approval. 

 

“You look nice,” she says with a smile. “Is that a cactus?”

 

“Evan likes plants,” Connor explains. “It’s for his desk. He’s at work all the time and he’s an environmental lawyer, he should have some greenery.”

 

“That’s cute,” Leslie replies, and her smile gets even wider. “You guys are cute.”

 

“We’re not-”

 

“I know, I know,” says Leslie, and she looks like she’s barely holding herself back from rolling her eyes at him. “You’re just friends, you’re not together, it’s all very platonic, yada yada.”

 

Connor actually does roll his eyes. “You know, assuming that just because I’m gay and Evan’s bi that we can’t be just friends is really problematic,” he says, deciding to ignore the fact that he and Evan have a lot more sex than most platonic friends do. 

 

“I don’t think you’re more than friends because you’re gay and Evan’s bi,” Leslie says matter-of-factly. “I think you’re more than friends because you got dressed up to go take him out to dinner on his birthday and you’re bringing him a cactus.”

 

“What about a cactus screams romance, exactly?”

 

“How the hell should I know?” Leslie says with a smirk. “I’m not a gay man.”

 

Connor’s Lyft pulls up outside and he rolls his eyes again, then bids Leslie goodnight and heads out of the store and into the waiting vehicle. 

 

When he gets to Evan’s office, there are two of Evan’s colleagues he vaguely recognizes heading out, both kind of bro-y looking who probably played some kind of sport and were frat boys in college. Upon closer inspection, Connor sees they’re holding hands, and he remembers Evan mentioning Charles and Asher, and that Charles had proposed to Asher in front of the whole office at the Christmas party, so suspects these might be the men in question. 

 

Not that Connor has the faintest idea which one is which. 

 

Charles and Asher both stop and smile at him. “Evan’s still in there,” one of them says. 

 

“What’s with the cactus?” the other one asks, gesturing to the cactus Connor is indeed still carrying. 

 

“It’s Evan’s birthday,” Connor explains. “It’s a gift.”

 

“Evan didn’t say it was his birthday,” the first guy says, frowning a little. 

 

The second guy laughs a little. “Evan’s not exactly the type to make a big deal about his birthday. Not everyone’s as extra as you, babe.”

 

“But we could have had cake,” the first guy says, sounding a little disappointed. 

 

“Have a good night,” Connor says, not really knowing what else to say, and heads through the building until he gets to Evan’s office. 

 

Evan is, as expected, hard at work, frowning a little, and Connor knocks on the door and Evan looks up and his eyes widen a little. 

 

“You don’t finish until eight,” Evan says, and while he looks generally pleased to see Connor he also looks more than a little taken aback. 

 

“Leslie’s closing tonight,” Connor explains, and he puts the cactus on Evan’s desk. “Happy birthday.”

 

Evan looks at the cactus for a moment, then breaks into a smile. “Did you seriously get me a cactus as a birthday present?”

 

“That’s just one part of your birthday present,” Connor says cheerfully, and pulls a brown paper bag out of his bag. “This is the other part.”

 

Evan laughs. “Of course you got me a book. Typical.” 

 

“You can open it at dinner,” Connor says, putting it back in his bag. “Come on, you can’t work late on your birthday.”

 

Evan frowns. “Connor, I can’t just leave-”

 

“It’s your birthday,” Connor says firmly. “Whatever it is you’re doing can wait until tomorrow.”

 

Evan looks torn. “I didn’t do anything over the weekend, I was so busy with my mom-”

 

“You shouldn’t have done anything over the weekend, either,” Connor retorts. “You work too hard.”

 

“I have responsibilities-”

 

“Evan, I’m not telling you to quit your job and join the circus,” Connor says with a roll of his eyes. “I’m saying that you should let me take you out for dinner for your birthday. Come on.”

 

Evan bites his lip. “I guess I could do some of this from home later,” he says reluctantly, and starts to pack up his things and Connor considers that a win, even though he really doesn’t like the idea of Evan doing more work later that night, because…

 

Well, he’d kind of hoped Evan would be up for the idea of birthday sex. Which is maybe a little selfish of him, but Evan would probably - no, would definitely enjoy it. 

 

It takes a while to get Evan out of the office, mostly because one of his colleagues comes in and asks a question about a pesticide report, which Connor obviously knows nothing about. He sits and reads the book he keeps in his bag in the corner while Evan finishes something up, but finally he finishes up and Connor gets him out of the building successfully. 

 

“So what were you thinking for dinner?” Evan asks, and Connor sighs because he saw this coming. 

 

“You should totally be deciding where we eat, because it’s your birthday,” says Connor with a roll of his eyes. “But since the last time I asked you to decide you said that your decision was that I decide, I was thinking Mexican. That place with the margaritas?” 

 

“Sounds awesome,” Evan says immediately, and Connor grins and they decide to walk because it’s not actually that far and Connor’s struck with the overwhelming urge to just… hold Evan’s hand as they walk. 

 

Maybe his hands are just cold. He puts them in his pockets to warm them up, but he still wants to hold Evan’s hand. 

 

Weird. 

 

When they arrive, they find a table for two in the corner and there’s a candle on it and everything and Evan looks really nice in candlelight, Connor notices. It does nice things to his eyes, makes them warmer than usual, and kind of makes his skin glow a little. 

 

It’s nice. Evan looks nice today. 

 

A little more stressed out than normal but definitely nice. 

 

When the waiter comes over Connor orders a jug of margaritas and says they need a little more time to figure out what they’re going to order, which Evan looks grateful for. Connor looks through the menu and is kind of struck with the thought that Mexican food definitely has a lot of the whole meat and cheese combination.

 

“What did you order last time?” Connor asks, looking through the menu. “Was it the meatless option? Meat and cheese and sour cream isn’t kosher, right?” 

 

Evan looks a little surprised. “Yeah,” he says. “I got the vegetarian tacos last time for that reason.” 

 

“They have vegetarian quesadillas as well,” Connor says as he looks through the menu. “We could get quesadillas and tacos and chilaquiles and some chips and guacamole and share?”

 

“Didn’t you get the chicken last time?” Evan points out. “Was it not good?”

 

“It was great,” Connor says, “but if I get the chicken then you can’t have any because of the whole meat and dairy thing. And it’s your birthday, so.”

 

Evan’s face bursts into this bright smile, and Connor really likes it. “Okay,” he says, and when the waiter comes back with the margarita jug, Connor orders the food and then pours them both a margarita each and they take a moment to clink glasses before drinking. 

 

“Oh, so I have your birthday present,” Connor says after a moment, pulling the bag out of his bag and handing it to Evan. 

 

“Do you want me to open it now?” Evan asks. Connor nods, because it’s been a year now and he’s not as embarrassed about Evan opening gifts in front of him anymore. Evan pulls out the hardback copy of  _ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone  _ Connor ordered in for him and his eyes widen a little. “Oh wow. Is this…” 

 

“Slytherin special edition,” Connor says with a grin. “Figured you’d appreciate it, even if you already had a copy of the book.”

 

“I have a second-hand paperback,” Evan says with a fond smile, “and it’s falling apart, I read it so many times. This is beautiful, thank you so much.”

 

“They’re releasing all the books in these house themed special editions,” Connor tells him. He grins widely. “Guess I’ve got your birthday present sorted for the next six years.”

 

Evan stares at him for a moment, something Connor can’t read on his face. “You think you’re going to be getting me birthday presents for the next six years?” Evan says after a moment. 

 

“I’ll be getting you birthday presents the rest of our lives,” Connor replies immediately. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

 

“You have got to stop saying shit like that,” Evan says in a rush, his cheeks going a little pink. Connor’s about to ask what he means when Evan rolls his eyes dramatically. “It’s super cheesy, oh my god.”

 

Connor just laughs and has a sip of his margarita. “So tell me about this case you’re working on,” he says after a moment. “The one that someone asked you about the pesticide report for.”

 

Evan launches into an explanation of the case he’s working on, talking animatedly, and even though he’s clearly tired and worn out, it’s obvious from the way he’s talking that he genuinely cares about what he’s doing, about the client he’s representing, and Connor really likes that, really likes that Evan’s passionate about what he does. Even if Connor wishes he wouldn’t work quite so hard. 

 

Sometimes when Evan’s in the thick of a big case like he is now, all Connor wants to do is drag Evan to bed and make him sleep. Curl up around him protectively and let him drift off and feel his breathing even out and listen to him snore and occasionally mumble something in his sleep and just… know that he’s resting, know that he’s recharging, because Evan works so hard and even though he’s much, much better at looking after himself than he used to be, Connor knows that when Evan gets busy, he just pushes through and ignores what he needs. 

 

Connor just really, really, really wants to keep Evan safe and happy and healthy and well-rested. He’s the most important person in Connor’s life.

 

Connor’s not sure if it’s weird to want to make sure Evan sleeps and eats, if that’s crossing the boundaries of friendship. He’s never sure where the boundaries are, because he just doesn’t have a frame of reference, but if he steps over them, he trusts that Evan will say something. Evan’s made it clear so many times that they’re friends and fuck buddies and that’s where it ends, that Evan doesn’t want anything else from him, and it’s not Evan’s fault that sometimes Connor fucks it up. 

 

Their food arrives and there’s actually way more than Connor originally expects, so they end up taking some to go, and Connor insists that Evan take it home, take it to work for lunch tomorrow, and Evan complains when Connor pays because Connor paid for Thai on Friday, and Connor has to remind Evan again that it’s his birthday, that Connor’s  _ allowed _ to do all of this for him because it’s his birthday, that it’s not weird to want to treat your best friend on his birthday. 

 

Connor walks Evan back to his apartment after dinner, and it’s not actually that late. It’s barely nine, actually. “We could watch a movie or something?” Connor offers, and Evan looks like he’s about to say yes, but then he shakes his head. 

 

“I really do need to do some more work,” Evan says apologetically. “I’m sorry. It’s just really busy, this is a huge case. And I left early, so…”

 

“Okay,” says Connor, and tries not to let his disappointment show, because he just… really wants to be with Evan. To stay, to sit on his bed and watch a movie and make dumb jokes about it, to tear off Evan’s clothes and kiss him everywhere, to let Evan fuck him until he’s seeing stars and to hold Evan tightly until he falls asleep and gets the rest he clearly needs. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Evan says again. “Maybe we can hang out this weekend? I doubt I’ll get anymore surprise visitors.”

 

“That sounds great,” Connor says honestly. “Don’t work too hard, okay?” 

  
Evan kind of laughs. He looks at Connor with this soft smile, this fond expression, and it makes something in Connor’s chest twist. “Be safe,” Evan says. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

 

“Okay,” says Connor, and he wants to kiss Evan goodnight, but instead he hugs him, maybe tighter than he should but not as tightly as he wants to. “Happy birthday.” 

* * *

 

Evan kept staring at the Slytherin House cover of the copy of  _ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone _ . That was. So nice. Very nice. Connor… was so good. So amazing. Evan didn’t deserve a friend like him. He didn’t deserve him. He thought he would be getting Evan birthday gifts for six more years. For the rest of their lives.

When he said that Evan almost lost it. He nearly told Connor, then and there...

Fuck. 

Evan could hardly stand how adorable that was. How sweet. 

How romantic it would have been if Connor was his partner not his friend who he sometimes had sex with. 

Fuck. Connor sometimes just said these things and Evan could hardly handle it. He could hardly keep his heart from bursting, hardly stop himself from grabbing Connor and kissing him and telling him everything, everything…

Connor didn’t want that though. Connor didn’t date. Connor didn’t do relationships, and Evan knew this so he bit his tongue when Connor said that. He bit his tongue even though it was exactly what Evan wanted to hear, it was the sort of thing that gave him heart palpitations and had him picturing doing stuff like holding hands walking down the street or keeping a toothbrush at Connor’s place. 

It wasn’t right, entertaining these stupid fantasies. So he let them go whenever he could. 

Evan covered alright when Connor said he’d be buying him birthday gifts for the rest of their lives and just sat through dinner with his pain in his chest, this sort of ache of knowing that Connor didn’t mean it the way it came across.

He couldn’t hang out after dinner and Evan really really regretted it. He wanted to clear his schedule for the whole week and just spend all of his time with Connor. He always did. 

But he had this Kendra McCool case to worry about. And whoever the fuck the opposing counsel was, they were giving Evan one hell of a time with their many typos and several attempts to have the case dismissed and their massive firm with all of its clout fighting him tooth and nail to get anything admitted. It was starting to get on Evan’s last nerve. Also it was fucking weird that they were bringing someone in from out of state. Regardless, they had no grounds for dismissal and this thing was definitely going to trial, but that hadn’t stopped this asshole from from trying. 

So Evan went home. And he worked for a few hours.

And he missed Connor every moment of it. He regretted that he hadn’t gone home with Connor, hadn’t watched a movie or had sex or just fucking said something to him. 

But he worked instead. Because he had a job to do. 

He might be working a little too hard on this case, he had to admit. Evan just really wanted to do a good job. This one really mattered. And not just in a this-would-impress-his-boss-Jonathan kind of way. In a real, lives had been disrupted and this might help put it right way. Kendra McCool was a very kind woman who had suffered, whose child had suffered, whose mother had been the one to push her to take this thing to court and Evan refused to disappoint her. 

* * *

 

Connor’s just finished locking up the store and is about to set the alarm and head upstairs when there’s a frantic knock on the door. He turns to look, intending to tell whoever it is that yes, the closed sign on the door actually means that they’re closed. Then he sees Evan’s face through the door, and he’s pale and he looks freaked out and Connor nearly trips over himself trying to open the damn door and let him in. 

 

“Are you okay?” he demands, pulling Evan inside. 

 

Evan shakes his head, and he’s breathing weird and Connor can’t help it, he has to pull him into a hug, and before long Evan’s breathing evens out and he stops shaking and Connor starts to relax a little. 

 

But only a little. 

 

“Are you okay?” he asks again and Evan looks horribly embarrassed. 

 

“I’m freaking out,” Evan says, his voice shaky. “I… fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

 

“What happened?” 

 

“It’s the case I’ve been working on,” he says, frowning deeply. “Today we had the pre-trial meeting and turns out I know the opposing counsel.”

 

“Really?” 

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, and he looks at Connor. “It’s your dad.”

 

Connor’s eyes widen. “Fucking hell. Fuck.”

 

“The last time I saw your dad, I was a fucking mess,” Evan says, and he’s starting to sound even more frantic. “And he  _ knows _ that I’m a mess, he knows that I could barely order a fucking salad, fucking hell I’m going to fuck this up, I’m going to fuck this up so badly, I-”

 

“I have whisky upstairs,” says Connor, and Evan nods, and Connor quickly locks up and arms the alarm and they head up to his apartment. 

 

It barely takes any time for Evan to locate the whisky, pour himself a glass and down it quickly. He hands Connor a glass, and the two of them stand there by the kitchen counter, drinking in silence. 

 

“How is that fair?” Connor says, because this is bullshit. “He’s been practicing law for, like, longer than you’ve been alive. That’s an unfair advantage, it’s bullshit.”

 

“Not how it works,” says Evan bitterly. “It’s not, like, karate or whatever, where you go up against people who are the same… belt as you or whatever.”

 

“It’d be cool if it were,” Connor points out. “It would also be cool if you could, like, karate kick my dad. He’s such an asshole, oh my god.”

 

“He’s probably laughing,” Evan continues, and he sounds so fucking defeated, and Connor hates it. Completely and utterly hates it. “He probably thinks I’m a completely fucking joke, that this whole case is a joke and the worst thing is that the client I’m representing is  _ counting _ on me to help them. This massive industrial farming group have poisoned the ground water with pesticides and my client is suing for damages, because it made her son sick, and this is bullshit, it’s total bullshit, and this is… fuck, how can I help anyone when I’m up against someone who thinks I’m a fucking joke?” 

 

“What can I do?” Connor asks, frowning. “Is there… is there anything I can do to help?”

 

“I just don’t want to fucking think about it,” Evan says, sounding more and more disgusted. “I just… fuck. It’s just a fucking nightmare, I want to be thinking about absolutely anything else.”

 

“I could blow you?” Connor offers jokingly. 

 

Evan blinks. “Uh…”

 

“Sorry,” Connor says, feeling his cheeks turn a little red. “Dumb joke. Sex is probably the last thing you-”

 

“Get on your knees.”

 

It’s Connor’s turn to blink. He looks at Evan, a little stupidly. “What?”

 

“On your knees,” says Evan, and there’s absolutely no hesitation in his voice. It’s… 

 

Honestly so hot that Connor doesn’t even have to think about it. 

 

He drops to his knees and starts undoing Evan’s belt. Evan runs his hands through Connor’s hair and  _ tugs,  _ and Connor’s trying very hard not to get distracted, and Evan’s getting harder through his pants and there’s a part of Connor that doesn’t quite believe this is happening. 

 

But he’s not about to argue with Evan right now. 

 

He unzips Evan’s pants, then pulls them down, along with his underwear, and runs his tongue along the base of Evan’s erection. 

 

Evan’s grip on his hair gets tighter, and Connor smiles. He looks up at Evan and makes eye contact, and Evan’s looking at him with undisguised lust, and Connor licks the tip of Evan’s cock and listens to him take a sharp intake of breath, and-

 

“I think you can do better than that.”

 

Connor looks up at Evan, who’s smirking a little, and takes it as a challenge. He takes Evan’s entire length into his mouth, as deep as he can go, and Evan audibly moans and grips his hair tighter, and it just encourages Connor to keep going, focusing all his attention on the sounds Evan’s making and trying to distract him and…

 

He pulls away for a moment and looks up at Evan, who looks surprised that he’s stopped. “You’re not thinking about my dad while I’ve got your dick in my mouth, right?”

 

Evan actually growls. “Put my dick back in your mouth and  _ distract me,  _ Connor.”

 

With that, Evan tugs on his hair again, and Connor refocuses his attention on Evan’s dick, determined he’s going to make him lose all coherent fucking thought. Evan groans loudly and Connor hums a little, which makes Evan shudder, and Connor pulls away gently to press hot kisses against Evan’s hipbone, and he’s about to go back to blowing him when Evan pulls on his hair, and Connor looks up at him. 

 

“As much as I like you like this,” says Evan, and his voice is strong and forceful, “I think I’d like you even better in your bedroom.”

 

“Fuck, yes,” says Connor, almost without meaning to. 

 

Evan’s eyes flash with unbridled lust. “I’ll be in your room in five minutes,” he says confidently. “I expect you to be naked and on your hands and knees for me. Do you understand?”

 

Fuck. 

 

Fucking hell, that’s hot. 

 

“Yes sir,” says Connor, almost automatically, and Evan takes a sharp intake of breath at the title. 

 

“Oh, I  _ like _ that,” he says, reaching down to pull Connor to his feet, then grabbing his waist and pulling him in for a hot, deep kiss. “I like that a lot.” He kisses Connor again, then reaches down to stroke him through his jeans, and Connor actually whimpers. “On your bed,” Evan instructs. “Naked and on your hands and knees for me. Be a good boy and do what you’re told.”

 

Connor’s throat has gone completely dry and he knows that Evan’s bossy in bed but this is a whole new level, and honestly it’s the kind of thing that Connor didn’t think he’d be into but it is seriously turning him on right now. 

 

And, well. 

 

Evan’s given him an order, so he’ll follow it willingly. 

 

He walks into his bedroom, closes the door and lets out a breath. “Fuck,” he says to himself, then he strips off his clothing and strokes his cock for a moment, because he’s painfully hard at this point. 

 

Then he gets on his hands and knees on his bed and waits for Evan, like a good boy who’s doing exactly what he’s told. 

 

Connor’s not sure what Evan’s going to do next, but he’s pretty sure it’ll end up with Connor getting well and truly fucked, and that sounds like an excellent idea right now. 

 

Evan hasn’t disappointed him in bed yet and he honestly doesn’t expect he ever will. And Connor trusts him, more than he’s ever trusted anyone in his life. 

 

After what feels like forever, Connor hears his bedroom door open and close again and he hears Evan swear quietly under his breath. There’s an agonizing silence, and Connor thinks Evan must be taking off his clothes. He wants to turn around and watch, because he likes watching Evan undress, but Evan told him to get on his hands and knees on his bed and Connor’s going to do what he’s told, he’s going to follow Evan’s orders because it’s just so fucking hot when Evan takes control like this.

 

He can feel the bed shift under Evan’s weight. “Such a good boy,” Evan almost purrs. “You did exactly what you were told.” Evan’s hand wraps around his cock and strokes it possessively, and Connor thinks he’s going to pass out. “Fuck, you’re hard. Are you hard for me?”

 

“Yes sir,” Connor pants, and Evan presses a hot kiss against his neck. 

 

“Good boy. You’re such a good boy for me.”

 

The bed shifts again, and Connor can hear the drawer on his bedside table open, and the sound of lube, and then Evan’s fingering him, slowly and deliberately, and Connor genuinely moans at the sensation, because fuck fuck fuck there is something incredibly hot about just… kneeling here and letting Evan take the lead like this. 

 

He’s not really thinking at the moment, but somewhere at the back of his mind he realizes that Evan probably needs this right now. Needs to feel like he’s in control. 

 

Connor’s happy to give it to him if it leaves him feeling this good. 

 

“That’s it,” Evan says, and he’s pressed up against Connor and Connor can feel how hard he is, feel the heat of his skin. “Good boy, you’re doing so well. You like it when I stretch you open like this, don’t you?”

 

“Yes sir,” Connor gasps, and Evan’s kissing his neck again, moving his fingers even faster. 

 

“Good boy. And you’re not going to touch yourself, you’re not going to come until I give you permission, because you want to be good for me.” Before Connor can respond, Evan’s grabbing his hair and kissing him hard, almost bruisingly hard, and Connor moans against him as Evan’s tongue explores his mouth, kissing him possessively, and Connor’s still there on his hands and knees, exactly like Evan told him to. 

 

“Fuck,” Evan gasps. “You’re so fucking hot, fuck. I can’t wait to fuck you.” He crooks his finger inside Connor and Connor moans again and then Evan’s hand is in his hair and he’s tugging and fuck fuck fuck. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

 

“Yes sir,” Connor replies immediately, and he’s panting for breath now because this is just so overwhelming hot. “I want you to fuck me, sir.”

 

“Good boy,” Evan says approvingly. Then Evan’s pulling him up to face him again and kissing him hard, hot and wet and Connor melts into it, letting himself drown in this feeling. When Evan pulls away, he looks Connor straight in the eye, and there’s something soft in his expression, even though his pupils are blown and his eyes are blazing with lust. “You good?” he asks Connor gently. “Tell me if this is too much.”

 

“I’m good, sir,” Connor says, not sure that the words are coming out properly, and Evan grins wickedly and kisses him again, even deeper, and then Connor’s being pushed against the mattress. He hears Evan opening a condom wrapper and there’s a pause as Evan rolls the condom onto his cock and then Evan is fucking Connor, hard and fast, holding onto his hips so tight Connor thinks they might bruise. 

 

“Fuck,” Evan moans. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous, you’re so good, Connor, you’re so good for me.”

 

Connor lets out a long moan as Evan scrapes his teeth along his neck and wraps his hand around Connor’s cock. Evan presses hot kisses along the back of his neck and moans and fucks him even harder and Connor completely stops thinking, he stops thinking, nothing matters except Evan, who’s fucking him hard and fast and moaning and gasping.

 

“Don’t come,” Evan pants in Connor’s ear. “Not until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes sir,” Connor gasps immediately, even though he’s not sure how he’s going to avoid it, because he is so fucking turned on and Evan’s hand is working his cock and it feels so fucking good, but Evan doesn’t want him to come, so he focuses everything he has on holding back his orgasm, in doing what he’s told. 

 

“Fuck, you feel so good, you’re so good,” Evan moans, and Evan fucks him harder and harder and then he lets out a loud moan that’s almost a whine and lets go of Connor’s cock and comes hard. Connor desperately, desperately wants to come as well, he’s so close, but Evan hasn’t said he can yet, and he’s going to be good, he has to be good for Evan, he wants to please Evan even more than he wants to come. 

 

“Please sir,” Connor gasps as Evan’s movements slow. “Please.”

 

“You’re such a good boy,” Evan moans, pressing kisses against the back of Connor’s neck. “You’re so good.” He pulls out of Connor slowly, then flips Connor over and presses him against the mattress and looks him up and down approvingly. Connor can see that he’s taking in everything, including how painfully turned on he is. 

 

“Please let me come, sir,” Connor begs, and Evan’s eyes are burning with lust and Evan actually shudders at his words, and Connor can tell how much Evan likes it when Connor calls him sir. 

 

It’s not something he’s ever done before with anyone else, but he’ll do it with Evan, because Evan is someone he trusts, more than anyone. 

 

Evan leans down and presses a kiss on one side of Connor’s hip, then another. “You’ve done so well,” he says approvingly. “You’ve done so well and you’re so turned on right now, aren’t you? I like seeing you like this.” He presses a hot wet kiss to the tip of Connor’s cock and Connor actually thinks he’s going to pass out from pleasure. 

 

“Please sir,” Connor begs, and he’s not even sure what he’s saying anymore, all he can think about is how much he wants to be good for Evan and how badly he wants to come, and it’s like his entire body is on fire, like he’s hovering on the edge, and he closes his eyes and gives into the feeling and he’s begging and pleading and moaning and gasping and then Evan’s hand wraps around his cock and starts stroking him again. 

 

“You’re so good,” Evan says, and his mouth is right on Connor’s ear, and it’s like the words are going right through him. “Such a good boy. You can come now. Come for me now. I want you to come for me, good boy.”

 

Connor comes hard, and he can feel it all the way through him and it’s all he can feel, all he can think about, his mind can’t contain anything else except this white hot pleasure and he can hear himself moaning as he comes but it’s like the sound is coming from far away and the orgasm seems to last forever until finally, finally, he slumps against the mattress, boneless and shaking, gasping for breath, and Evan’s pressing gentle kisses against his neck, telling him how good he’s been, how pleased Evan is with him, how well he’s behaved, until Connor finally, finally, finally manages to breathe properly again. 

 

It takes a long time for either of them to speak. 

 

“Fuck,” Evan says softly against his ear. “Fuck, Connor… fuck. You are so fucking amazing, oh my  _ god.” _

 

“Did that help?” Connor asks, opening his eyes to look at Evan. He’s only half kidding. 

 

Evan looks at him and his eyes are warm and he leans in and kisses Connor, almost softly. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “That… yeah.” He laughs, a little self-consciously. “Sorry if it was… uh…”

 

“I liked it,” Connor admitted. “Having you taking control like that was fucking hot.” He grins. “You’ve always been bossy in bed, but this was a step further.”

 

Evan winces a little, looks almost embarrassed. “I should have… I should have asked if it was okay before I-”

 

“I would have told you,” Connor assures him. “If it wasn’t okay, I would have said something, I wouldn’t have gone along with it like I did.” Evan’s eyes are big and still hesitant, and Connor reaches out a still shaking arm to grab Evan’s hand. “I trust you. And I felt like you… needed that.”

 

Evan blinks a few times, looking a little overwhelmed. “Yeah,” he chokes out. “I… it was a lot, I know, but-”

 

“I trust you.”

 

After a moment, Evan nods. And smiles. And looks intensely grateful. “If we… if we did something like that again,” Evan says finally, “I’d want us to talk about it first. Figure out limits.”

 

“I liked it a lot,” Connor says with a smile. “And I am more than happy to have a conversation about it again in the future.” He really wants to kiss Evan, but instead raises his hand in the air. “High five?”

 

“You’re such a dork,” says Evan, grinning, but he high-fives Connor anyway, then buries his head in Connor’s neck for a moment. 

 

When he moves away, Connor feels this brief pang of loss, and Evan sits up and smiles at him. “I’m going to get you some water, okay?” Evan says, and he puts on Connor’s bathrobe and heads into the kitchen. 

 

Even though he’s gone for all of two minutes, Connor misses him. 

* * *

 

Forty five minutes before Evan was due in front of a judge to face off against Larry Murphy and he was throwing up in the bathroom at the courthouse. Evan hadn’t slept most of the night, pouring over documents, rehearsing and rewriting his arguments, biting his nails until they bled. At quarter to four o’clock Alex walked into his room and just turned his lights off on him, a thing she did when she thought he needed to call it quits, and he ended up tossing and turning for at least half an hour.

His client deserved better than this. Kendra was a single mom. She had worked hard to take care of her kid. She was hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt now because she and a lot of other people in her neighborhood had been poisoned for years and years by the industry that was supposed to be feeding them, providing them with food, because some suits in an office somewhere decided bug free tomatoes mattered more than the lives of the people who lived near the tomatoes. Plus Kendra was really nice. She deserved someone who knew what the fuck they were doing, not some kid play acting in a suit. 

She deserved better than Evan but Evan was what she had. 

Larry Murphy’s record in New York was good. Intimidatingly good. He won a lot. He’d won in front of this judge before. From what Evan heard through the grapevine, Larry and Judge Cliffe sometimes went golfing together. 

Evan had never golfed. He did not have name recognition. He’d gone to community college and transferred to a state school for undergrad. The suit he was wearing was purchased off the rack and he had charged it to his fucking credit card. His mommy had picked out this tie. 

Plus he had just thrown up in a toilet in the men’s room fifteen feet from the courtroom so basically he had nothing going for him. 

But he was prepared. Like potentially overly prepared. Like, could recite documents with page numbers from memory, knew coordinates on a map, spotted a typo in Larry Murphy’s motion to dismiss where he fucked up and called organisms “orgasms” ready. 

The typo actually made Evan feel a bit better. Larry Murphy might have put “Esq.” after his name and might be wearing a bespoke suit and he might think Evan was pathetic, but the asshole couldn’t spell. 

If only Evan could just get Larry’s smug fucking voice out of his head,  _ “Environmental law? Not a lot of money in that… Obviously.” _

Evan wanted to punch that guy into the sun. 

But so far all he managed was not to throw up where Larry might see him. 

He stepped out of the stall and up to the row of sinks, rinsing out his mouth and straightening his tie and giving his reflection a serious, do-not-fuck-this-up-for-us look. He was washing his hands as Larry Fucking Murphy walked into the bathroom, cool as a cucumber. “Good morning,” He greeted Evan, smirking and then just walked over to the urinal to piss and really, Evan thought, was this his big intimidation tactic? Pee wasn’t that scary, not even for Evan who was certifiably pathetic. Also urinals were honestly extremely stupid because now he was in a room where Larry Murphy’s dick was out and the other day Larry Murphy’s son had Evan’s dick in  _ his  _ mouth and fantastic, Evan was thinking about dicks when he needed to focus. 

“Good morning,” He said back to Larry, his voice a little tight. But he didn’t stutter or “um” so he would take it. Evan dried his hands and headed out of the bathroom, saying nothing else. 

He checked his phone on the walk to the courtroom, and there was a text from Connor that read,  _ “Kick ass today!” _ and Connor must have gotten up early to send it and Evan replied to thank him and then it was time. 

Evan’s opening statement went off without a hitch. His voice was strong, smooth. This was where he knew he was good at his job. He had an argument and he was presenting it, laying it out like a thesis in a paper he had worked hard to prove. No bumps. His voice was smooth and clear, like a freshly zambonied ice rink, and Evan knew that. He knew himself, he knew his skills, and he was killing this. 

When Evan finished, Larry started his opening statement. Kendra, beside Evan, her breathing hitched when he claimed that the company could be shown “without a shadow of a doubt” to not be at fault for the damages. Evan looked at her, at her pale complexion and the set of her jaw, and Evan, knowing he needed to remain impartial, unemotional, couldn’t stand it. He offered Kendra his hand, because he knew that sometimes you just needed an anchor when things got tough, offered her his hand. Kendra took it, her hand clammy and cold, Evan gave it a squeeze. He knew Larry was watching him, watching him get distracted and involved and he didn’t fucking care. He took Kendra’s hand and said, his voice low and quiet, “Don’t listen, don’t let him get in your head, I’ve got this.”

He might be talking out of his ass but he needed Kendra to believe him. He needed her to believe in his skills because if she fell apart he would fall apart. And Evan was not going to fall apart, not today, not in front of Larry Murphy. 

Once the opening statements were finished, Evan gave Kendra’s hand one more squeeze and let go. Larry smiled, smug, because he thought Evan was distracted. And honestly, that’s exactly what Evan wanted. 

Larry Murphy thought he was an idiot and that meant he was more likely to get sloppy. 

Evan smiled at Kendra and said, quietly, “We’ve got this.”

Like in chess, someone in a courtroom always got to go first. Evan liked playing white when he played chess. He liked getting to set the tone. Today, he was the representing the plaintiff, so that meant he got to call his witnesses first. Evan was playing white. 

So Evan took a deep breath, and he called his first witness. 

Court adjourned for the day before Larry’s cross of Evan’s second witness. Evan was grateful for the break but also a bit nervous because it meant Larry had all night to prepare. Which sort of sucked, but Evan thought he had done a good job with his initial questioning and he had rebutted all of Larry’s points during his initial cross (and also got to object to Larry’s line of questioning a few times, and he couldn’t deny it was very satisfying). 

So now Evan would go home. He begged Kendra to try to get some sleep, to call her kid when she got back to her hotel room, and she hugged Evan and thanked him and it wasn’t over yet but Evan felt like worried than he had on the way in that morning. 

Evan was about to head out of the courthouse, planning to take the subway home, when Larry approached him on the steps. “Nice job today,” He said, clapping a hand on Evan’s shoulder. 

“Thank you?”

“Gotta say,” Larry went on, giving Evan this feral sort of smile. “I didn’t expect much from you. I mean, no offense of course, but Connor’s choice in friends has always been questionable.”

Evan blinked in surprise. “Do you really think that’s going to work?” He spat. “I’m not in the fourth grade, Mr. Murphy, and I’m not going to be intimidated by you because you don’t think I make a good playmate for your son. And frankly?” He went on, his hands curling into fists. “I’d trust Connor’s judgment over yours any day. Have a nice day.” 

Evan walked away quickly. 

His ears were ringing, his blood pounding in his ears, and he was so fucking angry he could punch something what the hell was the matter with Larry fucking Murphy? Where did he get off, talking to Evan like that, about Connor like that? 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck… 

Evan took the subway but didn’t get off at his usual stop, instead heading to The Little Book Nook and… realizing it was only five o’clock and Connor wouldn’t be off for three hours and fuck. 

Fuck. 

He just… needed not to be alone, by himself, in his apartment or his office where all he would do was fret and worry about how he had pissed off Larry Murphy and… 

He went into the bookstore anyway, and Leslie greeted him. “Is Connor here?” Evan asked, his voice coming out sort of shaky. 

“He’s in the back doing inventory,” Leslie said, sounding surprised. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy,” Evan mumbled. “Can I go back there? I need to talk to Connor… about the store,” He lied. 

“Yeah you can go back there.”

So Evan headed into the store room where Connor had a pencil tucked behind his ear, taking notes on a legal pad with a pen, looking lost in thought. 

“Evan? What are you doing here, I thought you had court today?”

“I did. We’re adjourned until tomorrow.”

“Are you alright? You look… weird.”

“Your dad… is a person I don’t appreciate having to go up against.”

Connor nodded. 

“Is it… can I just sit here while you work? I don’t want to distract you I just. I…”

“Yeah, of course,” Connor said. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Evan nodded wearily. “I just need. To not go back to my apartment and beat myself up until it’s morning.”

“Okay,” Connor said. He got up and put a hand on Evan’s shoulder for a moment, but then he went back to his inventory. Evan had a seat on an unopened box of paperback copies of  _ The Song of Ice and Fire _ series, and he leaned back against the wall. Connor talked to himself a little as he made notes, mumbling that they needed to order new stock for some YA title, and Evan felt the tightness in his chest unspooling a little. He liked that he could just be here with Connor, that Connor understood that Evan didn’t need anything other than to not be alone. That he could keep working and writing and Evan could just be there. 

He really was exhausted. He had barely slept. 

Evan yawned. 

His eyes drifted closed. 

He nodded off, just for a moment. “Hey,” Connor’s hand was on Evan’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go lie down upstairs?”

“I should just go home,” Evan said, blinking. 

“You’re exhausted,” Connor said. “Go on, go sleep a bit. I just changed the sheets, and I’ll get us some dinner once I close up, okay?”

Evan was worn down, so he nodded. He headed upstairs to Connor’s apartment. He toed off his shoes and headed to Connor’s room, stripping out of his suit and crawling into Connor’s bed in his undershirt and boxer briefs. Evan realized he always took the right side of the bed, closer to the door, and thought, well, it was a bit odd to have a side of the bed at Connor’s place when they were only friends but… Evan fell asleep too quickly to worry about it. 

Connor woke Evan up around eight fifteen, saying he had ordered in Thai food and did Evan want to borrow some sweats? 

“Thanks,” Evan said, desperately grateful. Evan accepted a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, pulling them on and following Connor into the living room where he turned on an episode of  _ The Office  _ and they ate their food and Evan relaxed. Connor told Evan a little about how sales were going for the month, and it was nice because Evan could just listen without talking, could just eat and listen and watch the show and it helped a lot. 

“Was it that bad today?”

Evan shrugged. “No, not really. I think I did alright actually. Your dad is just…”

“He’s a dick.”

“He’s trying really hard to get into my head.” Evan shook his head. “It’s just, like. He might as well be my own fucking anxieties turned into a person, you know? He might as well just be the voice in my head telling me all the ways I could fuck this up.”

“He’s good at that,” Connor said. “Really good at it.”

“Kinda makes me glad my dad fucked off when I was seven,” Evan said. And then he realized he had said that and went, “Well, shit, I think that’s enough daddy issues for today.”

“I could always meet your dad, have him tell me everything wrong with me,” Connor said, smiling slightly. “To make things fair.”

“Not a good idea. He’d probably just ask you to babysit.”

Connor smiled a little. “Do you want to stay over? Would that help?”

Evan honestly thought it would. He could imagine it perfectly. He could curl up against Connor, bury his face in Connor’s neck, smell his hair, listen to his heart beating and he would sleep, he would probably sleep through the whole night without waking, he’d go back to court well rested and he would destroy Larry Murphy and…

That wasn’t reality. Because Connor wasn’t his boyfriend, Connor was his friend and friends didn’t behave the way Evan was behaving and he… he needed to go home. 

“I’m okay,” Evan said. “But thanks for letting me crash here for a while I… I think I was just overly tired. Thank you, though, seriously.”

Connor sent Evan home, still wearing Connor’s hoodie and sweats. Evan got home and he knew he should change, he should behave like a normal friend, but he was going against Larry Murphy in the courtroom tomorrow again and he… Needed to let himself grab onto something real and Connor had sent him home with his hoodie and Evan wore it as he got out his notes and went over his evidence for the next day. Evan wore Connor’s hoodie to bed, to sleep. It smelled like Connor, and Connor made Evan feel safe.

* * *

 

Evan got up at six. He got dressed, his charcoal suit today. He knotted his emerald green tie around his neck, smiling a little because Connor had once told him he thought it looked a bit like a Slytherin tie. Evan could use a little Slytherin badassery today. 

He stopped to get coffee and then made his way to the subway. He was downtown in no time, despite the crowded trains, and it gave him a few minutes to speak to Kendra and let her know what to expect out of the day. Larry arrived only a few minutes before they were due to start, and Evan noticed, with some satisfaction, that he looked a bit tired. 

Evan had another text from Connor, which meant he got up early a second time just to text Evan.  _ “You’ve got this.” _

Judge Cliffe strode into the courtroom and Evan stood, feeling his heart start to speed a little. It was fine. It would be fine. 

It wasn’t fine. 

Larry was clearly in a bad mood as he began his cross examination of Evan’s ecologist who had tested the soil and water around Kendra’s home and neighborhood. He kept trying to knock down the data, prove that Dr. Shell wasn’t credible because she had only gained her PhD three years ago and Evan had enough. “Objection, relevance?”

“Speaks to the witness’s credibility,” Larry snapped, a vein in his forehead appearing. 

“Dr. Shell has a PhD from Columbia and specifically studies environmental impacts,” Evan countered. 

“Sustained. Move on, Mr. Murphy,” said Judge Cliffe and Larry, his face a bit red, was forced to drop that line of questioning. 

They moved on. After a brief recess around eleven o’clock, it was Larry’s turn to present his evidence and witnesses and Evan found himself… surprised. It was. Sloppy. His argument was tenuous at best. The legal precedent he cited to introduce new evidence had been overturned in the state of New York three years prior. He was argumentative, combative, and he kept asking leading questions. Evan found himself on his feet, objecting, ten times in the space of one witness’s testimony. 

After the tenth, Larry actually, genuinely rolled his eyes and shouted when he tried to defend his question and Judge Cliffe, obviously irritated, called for order, demanding, “Counselors, approach the bench.”

Evan felt a bit like he was being called to the principal’s office or asked to solve an algebra problem in front of the class. 

“Do we have a problem here, gentlemen?” Judge Cliffe asked, voice low as he 

peered at them from above. “Because it seems like there is a lot of attitude flying around my courtroom today and I will not stand for it. So. Is there a problem?”

“No, Your Honor,” Evan said. 

“Of course not, Your Honor,” Larry said, giving the judge a smile. 

Judge Cliffe stared the pair of them down for a long moment, then nodded. “Good.” 

So they resumed. 

Larry’s next witness was, naturally, Kendra. Evan had prepped her for this tirelessly, for hours, going over her answers and coaching her through the sort of shit he was sure that Larry might throw her way. She was ready for it, and Evan gave her an encouraging nod as she headed for the witness stand. She looked a little unsure of herself, but she never wavered as she was sworn in. 

“State your name for the record?”

“Kendra McCool.”

She swore to be truthful and then Larry stood, smiling, almost, and it was unnerving, really, to see someone who shared features with Connor look so callous. 

“Ms. McCool,” He began, still not quite smiling. “You’re here today because you believe my client’s company has somehow caused your son to become ill, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And when did Ryan first become ill?”

“About two years ago,” Kendra answered. 

“And when he first began to show symptoms, when did you first take him to the doctor?”

“Right away,” Kendra said. 

“Right away?” Larry repeated. “It says here you didn’t take him until he had been sick for over a week.”

“Yes, well, I thought at first it might just be the flu. He was five. Five year olds… they get bugs at school, daycare. But after a week when he wasn’t getting any better, I took him in. Right away.”

“And before that how often did Ryan go to the doctor?”

“Twice a year for check ups, plus if he got sick,” Kendra answered. 

“Twice a year?” Larry repeated. “And if he got sick. Did you take him every time he got seriously sick, Ms. McCool?”

“Yes,” She said. “Every time.”

“Right away?”

“Right away.”

“Now you work two jobs, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re a single mother, correct?”

“I am.”

“And you really expect us to believe that a single parent who works two jobs took time off every time her child got sick?”

“Objection, argumentative.”

“Sustained.”

Evan imagined punching Larry in the face. Just. How satisfying it would be to punch him. He had never punched anyone in his life, but he could see it clearly, imagine the pain shooting up his arm from his fist and how it would feel so very justified. He wanted to punch Larry right in his face.

“Ms. McCool, isn’t it true that you smoked cigarettes for the first five years of Ryan’s life?”

“Yes.”

“And isn’t five about the age he was when he first started falling ill?”

“Yes.”

“Now, some studies have linked exposure to secondhand smoke to weakened immune systems in children. Do you think it is possible that this was what caused Ryan’s various illnesses?”

“Objection, irrelevant -”

“This offers an alternate theory for Ryan McCool’s illnesses, Your Honor.”

“Overruled, I’ll allow it.”  
Kendra looked rattled. “I don’t know.”

“So you aren’t certain that exposure to pesticides and agricultural runoff caused your son’s illness?”

“No, but I -”

“So it’s possible that you, in fact, caused your son to become ill -”

“Objection!”

“Sustained, move on counselor.”

Larry looked murderously over at Evan. He cleared his throat. “Ms. McCool, I’m sure you are a hardworking woman. You want to take care of your child. And you’re seeking compensation today to help him, right? You’re coming after a company you know nothing about in order to -”

“Objection, counsel is testifying.”

“Your Honor, this is ridiculous I am-”

“Sustained,” Judge Cliffe said, banging his gavel. “Counselors, my chambers. Now. We’ll take a fifteen minute recess.” 

Fuck. 

This was definitely worse than being called to the principal’s office. 

Fuck. 

Evan headed out of the courtroom, trying to give Kendra an encouraging smile as he left. He had so far in his short legal career avoided ever needing to be seen privately in a judge’s chambers before and it was not something he was terribly thrilled about. He did his best to keep his face neutral, impassive as he and Larry made their way down the hall and into Judge Cliffe’s offices. 

Evan swallowed as he knocked on the door and was let inside immediately. Judge Cliffe was seated behind his desk, frowning. 

“Do you two want to tell me just what the hell is going on in my courtroom?” He barked. 

Evan flinched. Fuck, fuck, this was bad. 

“Larry, I’ve golfed with you, and I know you hate to lose, but get ahold of yourself man.”

“Excuse me?” Larry sputtered and Evan was desperately trying to control his face because he did  _ not _ expect that.  

“Has Mr. Hansen keyed your car recently, Larry? Spit in your face? Slept with your wife? Because those are the only excuses I can come up with for this behavior in a courtroom. Frankly, I ought to hold you in contempt or send you back to law school because that was highly unprofessional and honestly, Larry, a bit embarrassing.”

Larry opened and closed his mouth a few times. 

He said nothing. 

“Larry, you’re dismissed. Mr. Hansen, hang back a moment please.”

Larry left. Evan tried to subtly take a calming breath. 

“You’re young,” Judge Cliffe said. “So maybe you haven’t learned this yet, but. Keeping your cool up against Larry Murphy is… very admirable. You’re doing well.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Evan said, a bit dazed because, like, could a judge even fucking say that what the fuck?

He returned to the courtroom. 

Larry finished questioning Kendra. Evan asked her a few things, to reaffirm their timeline and story and then the arguments were over. Larry’s closing argument wasn’t quite as smooth or polished as his opener. He hardly seemed confident, but rather a bit angry and bitter as he insisted Evan had failed to prove his client was liable. 

And then. 

It was time for Evan to close. 

He took a deep breath. 

His closing was perfect. Precise, targeted. He laid out the timelines he had established. Referenced his evidence. Evoked a sense of empathy for Kendra and Ryan who had suffered so much and were only asking for a little relief to get their lives back. 

And that was it. Evan’s job was pretty much done. All that was left was to wait for a verdict. 

“You were amazing,” Kendra said as they recessed. 

“So were you,” Evan said. “I’m so sorry about how aggressive the questions were, I should have prepared you for that -”

“Honey,” Kendra said like she was his mom, not someone barely a few years older than Evan. “I’m a single mom with a sick kid. I’m the first person who gets blamed. It’s nothing I haven’t already heard.”

Evan stepped outside of the courthouse and, upon walking about a block away, lit a cigarette because fucking hell today was horribly stressful. He texted Connor a barebones explanation:  _ “Arguments over, your dad was out for blood with my client, but I think it went okay.” _

He smoked his cigarette and sighed, rolling his shoulders, thinking, hoping, that he had done well enough that this wouldn’t just waste Kendra’s time. 

And naturally, Larry Murphy strolled over to him, smiling like they hadn’t basically just had a screaming match, giving Evan this frustratingly judgmental chuckle. “I should have pegged you for the nervous type,” He said, pointing to Evan’s trembly hand holding his cigarette. “Last summer should have totally given you away.”

Evan shrugged, nonchalant. “Can I help you with something?”

“We should all have a drink once this is finished. You, me, and Connor. You put on a good show today, you deserve a reward.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed. “No thank you,” He said politely. 

“Come on. It’s gonna be your first big loss, at least let me buy you a conciliatory drink.”

Evan stubbed out his cigarette, deposited it in the trash. “You know, you can come out here and try to intimidate me as much as you like. You sure showed everyone that you’ve got no qualms about going after people with less power than you today. But no matter what you say to me right now, it’s not going to change the minds of the jury.”

Larry laughed, affronted. “You’re pretty confident for someone -”

“Someone who what?” Evan said icily. “Went to a state school and community college? Someone who just graduated? Someone who hangs around with the child you have no respect for? Is it the Jewish thing, the single mom thing, the poor thing, what? Please, Mr. Murphy, I’m dying to know, I am all ears to hear just  _ what _ I am to you. I know you think I’m pathetic and I’m sure you can practically smell poverty on me, but I don’t care. Because I did a great job in there, and we both know it. So I will walk away feeling great, even if I lose. But after today, Mr. Murphy? You’re going to go back to your fancy five star hotel that your firm put you up in, and you’re going to drink your way through the mini bar because neither of your kids will answer if you call them, and then you’re gonna be stuck thinking about all the ways I pissed you off today. All the ways I don’t deserve to face off against you. All the ways I got under your skin. And I won’t think about you at all.” 

At that exact moment, Evan’s phone went off. 

The jury had reached a decision. In less than an hour. 

“See you in there,” Evan said, heading back toward the courthouse, practically buzzing, triumphant because he had said his piece and not backed down or freaked out and it would be okay, win or lose. 

_ “Good luck!”  _ Connor texted him when he said he was about to head back inside. 

Evan sucked in a deep breath. 

He practically didn’t even hear the foreman’s words as she announced their decision, all of the noise in the room had reduced itself to a high pitched whine and then, suddenly, Kendra was crying and hugging Evan tightly around the middle and Larry Murphy’s face was red, angry, and holy shit. 

Holy shit. 

Evan had won. 

He won. 

“Kendra, oh my god, congrats!” He said, hugging her back as the judge adjourned the hearing. “You won!”

“Thank you,” She said, and she wiped her eyes as she pulled away. “Thank you, oh my god, I have to tell Ryan, thank you.”

As Evan left the courthouse, feeling lighter than he had in day, weeks, possibly ever, he let out a breath and then sent two texts. 

The first to Connor. 

The second to his mom. 

Both said,  _ “I won my case.” _

And then he smiled.

* * *

 

Evan’s win made it back to the office before he did. Mariah practically tackled him as he was getting off of the elevator, shouting, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE YOU SHOULD BE CELEBRATING?!”

Evan laughed awkwardly. “It’s only three o’clock. I figured I still had work to do.”

“Dude, you’re amazing. So the stenographer knows Lindsey from high school, right, and she said you kicked Larry Murphy’s ass! She said you got called into Judge Cliffe’s chambers because Murphy was being such a dickhead? Is that real?”

Evan shrugged. “He was… pretty argumentative when he put Kendra on the stand.”

“I’m not fucking shocked, prick.” Mariah nudged him with her elbow. “You tell Connor yet? That you kicked his dad’s ass?”

“I texted him that I won?” Evan said. 

“Please, dude, you need to learn to brag about yourself before I lose my damn mind,” Mariah said. “Text him this, right now, these words: Con Bon, I majorly destroyed your pops, come get on this D.”

Evan felt his face heating up, flinching at the words “Con Bon” because that was super gross. “Say it a little louder why don’t you?”

Mariah opened her mouth when Asher appeared in the hall and said, “Holy cats, Hansen, Lindsey just told me you dunked on Larry Murphy so hard?!”

Evan smiled a little. “I won, yeah.”

“Not what I heard,” Charles said, joining their conversation. “I heard you’re a total shark. That you ate Murphy for breakfast and enjoyed picking pieces of him out of your teeth.”

“You guys are making me sound so aggressive,” Evan mumbled, embarrassed. 

“Own it,” Mariah implored him. “You should absolutely embrace that.”

In a turn of events highly unusual for young associates at a respected law firm, they all left work for the day early deciding that they needed to celebrate Evan’s win. Early, of course, meant six o’clock. But it was nice, meeting up at the bar across the way and having a couple of drinks and having everyone desperate to hear about his showdown with Larry. Evan never super loved being the center of social attention, but this felt okay. Safe. Like there was very little chance that someone was actually laughing at him behind his back. 

Around seven thirty, Asher and Charles headed out to take advantage of their early night, and Mariah commented that they are “super gross now that they’re back together” before she texted her new boyfriend to meet up. 

“Whatever happened with Bex?”

“I cannot overcome Republicans, Evan. I just can’t.”

Left to his own devices, Evan texted Connor to ask if he wanted get some food or something?

“Yes! We should celebrate! Do you mind meeting me here, though? I have a few things I need to finish up before we close for the night.”

Evan took the subway to Connor’s, happy when he emerged from the stop that the weather had stayed pretty warm for most of the day. He made it to the store just as Connor was flipping the sign to CLOSED. “Hey,” Connor said, holding the door open. “Congratulations, dude! I’m really proud of you!” He grabbed Evan in a tight tight hug. “You are so awesome, way to go!”

Evan felt his face flame at those words. “Thanks, he said softly as Connor let go of him.

“Do you mind if we go upstairs a minute? I realized I left my wallet up there.”

“Sure,” Evan said, nodding amiably as he followed Connor up the stairs. 

“So my dad called me earlier,” Connor said conversationally. 

“Oh?”

“I let it go to voicemail. I figured since you kicked his ass it was probably for the best.”

Evan’s stomach turned uncomfortably, reminded of his own words to Larry earlier, about how his kids wouldn’t answer if he called them. He was right but he didn’t actually feel very good about it. “I’m sorry,” Evan said as they reached the top of the stairs. 

“Eh, I don’t really care,” Connor said with a shrug as they walked into his apartment. He made no moves to go find his wallet and Evan looked at him, confused. “I didn’t actually need to go grab my wallet.”

“Okay?” Evan said, surprised, but then Connor was looking at him wolfishly and Evan’s stomach flip flopped and he realized why Connor had asked him to come here.

“I wanted to properly congratulate you,” Connor went on, faux-innocently, his fingers gently touching the end of Evan’s tie. 

Evan smiled slightly. “Did you have something in mind?”

In response, Connor pulled roughly on Evan’s tie, pulling Evan’s mouth to his, and Connor kissed him deeply, his tongue exploring Evan’s mouth in a way that made Evan groan, his teeth raking over Evan’s bottom lip roughly and he bit down, making Evan gasp. 

Connor kept a firm hold on Evan’s tie, leading him none too gently to his bedroom. Evan was already hard, extremely hard, and then Connor practically threw him onto the bed, his hands going immediately for Evan’s belt and undoing it fast, like he had planned this, strategized the best way to get Evan out of his pants, and then he was yanking down his pants, his underwear, and Connor was pressing hot kisses on Evan’s hips, his legs, the inside of his thighs. 

“Fuck, Connor,” Evan wheezed as Connor gave his cock a long, slow lick, starting at the base and ending at the tip where Connor took Evan into his mouth, tongue swirling around the tip which made Evan gasp. 

He looked up at Evan, eyes mischievous, and then he took more of Evan’s cock into his mouth, took all of him and again, seriously, Connor’s lack of a gag reflex was something Evan always appreciated. He groaned as Connor’s head bobbed up and down on his dick, applying suction and really really driving Evan wild. He pulled away slightly, his tongue flicking across the slit of Evan’s cock and Evan jerked beneath him, his hips bucking up, and that’s when he noticed that Connor was undoing his own belt while he blew Evan, reaching his hand into his boxers and stroking his own cock and fuck, it was really hot to get to watch him, and fuck, Connor’s tongue was really incredible, and holy shit he should have beaten Larry Murphy in court fucking ages ago if this was his reward. 

Connor’s hand that wasn’t being utilized on his own cock wrapped around the base of Evan’s, squeezing gently and causing Evan to whimper, the volume only increasing as Connor’s soft lips wrapped tighter around the tip, his hot wet tongue running over and over and over the head of Evan’s cock, making him whine and then he’d catch a glimpse of Connor’s hand, curled around his own hard cock and  _ fuck _ , Connor was getting off on this and Evan found that extremely, distractingly hot. 

Connor’s hand released the base of Evan’s cock, and he was swallowing Evan down again, causing him to moan. Connor’s free hand ghosted across Evan’s hips, holding them down as Connor’s head moved steadily, a rhythm Evan’s body was desperately trying to match, to join, only the moment he thought he was used to it, he could handle it, Connor would change tactics, his tongue licking the underside of Evan’s cock, his lips pressing a kiss at the crown, and Evan was melting under Connor’s talented mouth, unable to keep up to do much of anything other than grab onto Connor’s hair for an anchor. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, Connor,” Evan said, his hips twitching as Connor’s mouth retreated for a moment, his hand stroking Evan as he kissed Evan’s hip, paying special attention to the area where his hipbone jutted out, licking and kissing and finally sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin there. “Holy fuck, Connor.”

Connor smiled at Evan. “You’re really hot like this,” He said, and it came out rough with want, and Evan watched him as Connor stroked himself for a few moments, feeling heat pooling in his belly, and Evan wanted to touch him, wanted to make him feel good, feel this, but then Connor’s soft lips were back on Evan’s cock, wrapped around him so perfectly and Evan was losing his mind, he was losing grip, he was collapsing and breaking down as Connor’s mouth made obscene, wet sounds and he moaned with Evan’s cock still in his mouth and that was amazing, it felt incredible, and then Connor was placing hot, wet kisses down the shaft, mumbling that Evan tasted good and Evan’s toes curled when Connor put his mouth back on Evan’s cock, so wet and hot and wonderful, Evan’s hips automatically thrusting forward, desperate for more of Connor Connor Connor and then he was gasping, “Fuck, Connor, I’m gonna come,” and Connor moaned against him and swallowed him down again and Evan was lost lost lost he was coming hard, losing himself, untethered from everything but the feel of Connor’s mouth on him. 

“Fuck, fucking… fuck,” Evan panted when he was finally finally finished and Connor wiped his mouth, still on his knees, his hand still fisting his own cock and Evan had to kiss him, had to taste himself on Connor’s tongue, and Connor groaned and he was spilling into his hand, and it was insanely, obscenely hot to watch him orgasm like this, Evan wanted to save this image in his mind, holy fuck. 

“Wow,” Connor said, like he had surprised himself. 

“Yeah,” Evan said breathlessly. “That was. Okay, like, you’re extremely good at giving head. Like, oh my god,” He said saying, giggling almost, he was so out of control and then Connor was laughing a little bit too, smiling hard. 

“Glad you enjoyed yourself?” Connor said. “I think I got a little carried away.” His finger pressed gently against the bite mark on Evan’s hip and Evan’s eyes slipped closed for a second.

“Uh, yeah, I super fucking did enjoy myself,” Evan said, smiling so hard his face felt weirdly stiff. “That was like… oh my God, that was the best blowjob in the whole history of the whole history.”

“Is that so?”

“Shut up,” Evan said, still smiling too much. “I used my brain a lot today. I think this fried it. It’s used up now. You broke my brain, it’s gone.”

“And what a way to go,” Connor said, and they started to laugh again, almost uncontrollably giddy, half hanging off of each other like they might slip off the face of the earth without a tight grip and then Connor was choking out, “You kicked my dad’s ass, oh my god, that is so fucking hot” and Evan was laughing, his sides hurting, the fact that he and Connor were both still half dressed with their dicks out hardly even registering until they both had a moment to calm down and collect themselves. 

“What the fuck,” Evan wheezed. “I mean that was really hot but what the fuck.”

“I don’t know! You beat my dad in court so I gave you a nice blow job! It made sense in my head!”

“Oh my god,” Evan said, shaking his head, and then they were off again, laughing and clutching each other because it was so fucking weird. 

“High five?” Connor asked Evan and Evan laughed a little more but high fived him all the same. But then they just collapsed in a fit of very uncontrollable giggles, Evan wheezing and Connor having to wipe away tears and neither of them could precisely hit on why this was so fucking funny. 

Once they’d finally stopped laughing, “I’m actually starving,” Connor said. “Do you want to actually go get something to eat?”

“Didn’t have enough earlier?” he said and Connor rolled his eyes. 

“I wasn’t planning to only have sausage for dinner.”

And then he and Evan kept laughing for at least another full minute. 

“We should go get food,” Evan said, nodding, and then they both started giggling again because, well, they’d need to put their pants back on first and they’d both had their shoes on the whole time and it was just very very funny for some reason.

“Tipsy’s?” Connor suggested when they both managed to put their junk away and zip themselves back up. 

“Great idea,” Evan said, looking at Connor fondly. He was so goddamn great, Evan couldn’t even stand it, it was going to burst out of him, he was going to - 

“Hey,” Evan said to Connor, looking at him intently. 

“Hey what?” Connor said, like he was waiting for an answer, like he wanted to hear whatever it was Evan might tell him. 

“I -”

But then Evan chickened out. This wasn’t the moment. There would never be a moment. He couldn’t tell him, even though he wanted to, he wanted to just put it out there and see what happened. 

Except what if Connor didn’t feel the same, what if Connor was repulsed by the idea that Evan loved him, what if it ruined everything?

“I’m really glad we’re friends,” Evan said instead. 

“Dork,” Connor said, and he ruffled Evan’s hair affectionately. “I’m glad we’re friends too. Now let’s go get some food before I waste away in front of you.”

“Won’t take too long,” Evan quipped. “You’re so damn skinny.”

“I have a theory that my biological father was actually a scarecrow,” Connor said, leading the way out of the building. “Like my mom got rawed by the brainless one from  _ The Wizard of Oz. _ ”

“Oh let’s not tell Larry, he’s already had a bad day,” Evan said. “I beat him in court, then his son gave me a blow job. Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

“Probably not,” Connor said and then he laughed and it was Evan’s favorite sound, it was the best thing, Connor was the best thing. 


	15. May (One Year and Three Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We’ve already discussed that I don’t like you talking about my butt like it’s not attached to me.”

“Everyone is talking about you,” Mariah said, coming into Evan’s office and sitting down across from his desk, placing an iced coffee on the edge of his blotter. 

“Uh,” Evan said, feeling himself flush, the creeping dread of being talked about behind his back crawling up his spine, onto his shoulders like a cartoon cat but evil. “What?”

“Uh, the McCool case? You, like, kicked major ass.”

Evan frowned slightly. “What are they saying?” He asked, grabbing his coffee. 

“They’re saying that you’re a badass! Asher wants to have your babies.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Asher already wanted to have my babies. It’s why Charles doesn’t like me.”

“Charles likes you,” Mariah said. “He’s just jealous of your badassery. And your cute butt.”

Evan shook his head. “We’ve already discussed that I don’t like you talking about my butt like it’s not attached to me.”

“We’re not talking about your butt anymore,” Mariah said. “We’re talking about how you kicked ass. You destroyed Larry Murphy in court.”

“I didn’t -” Evan protested because he didn’t, he _just_ , he’d won but he hadn’t kicked ass or destroyed Larry, not really, he just stood his ground.

“You did. You won Kendra McCool over three million dollars.” Mariah gave Evan a self satisfied smile. “And you made Larry Murphy turn into a little bitch in front of Judge Cliffe.”

Evan felt his face heat up. “I didn’t -”

“You did,” Mariah said. “Cristina Clark, the stenographer? She’s got a big mouth. She 

told everyone about how you got Larry reprimanded in Judge Cliffe’s chambers.”

“I didn’t,” Evan said. “He did that to himself.”

“I know, but you kept calm and let him make an ass of himself.” 

Evan shrugged. 

Mariah smiled. “Okay, gotta get back to my desk to maybe see if I can win myself a three million dollar case.”

“Bye,” Evan said, smiling a bit as he went back to the brief he was working on. A moment later, Evan’s boss Jonathan walked by, and gave Evan a very rare smile and asked him to come by his office. 

Weird. Okay. 

Evan followed Jonathan across the office floor toward Jonathan’s big corner office, feeling very jittery and strange as he walked inside. “Have a seat,” Jonathan said. 

Evan sat. 

“That McCool case was a big win,” Jonathan said. “Big win for the firm. Made us look great.”

“Thank you?” Evan said softly. 

“We should talk about your future here,” Jonathan said. 

“My future,” Evan repeated, confused. He had better not be getting fired over this. He wasn’t even that rude to Larry. In court, at least.

“You show a lot of promise. You’ve done a great job in your time here, but that case really wowed all of us in upper management.”

“Thank you sir,” Evan said, unsure where this was going.

“Based on your performance, we’re prepared to offer you…” He stopped, reaching across his desk to pass a piece of paper to Evan, “A fairly significant pay increase.”

Evan took the piece of paper. He blinked a few times, shocked at the numbers he was looking at. There were a few too many zeros. 

“Obviously it could come with an increased caseload. Maybe even a new office. Consideration for partner.”

“I. Wow, I mean. Thank you sir -”

“Do you golf, Hansen?” Jonathan went on. 

“Golf? Evan repeated. 

“Yes, golf. There’s clubs and small balls. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

Evan gave him a tight smile. “Uh. No sir, I don’t golf. I… Golf courses are a big waste of green spaces, natural resources.”

Jonathan stopped. “Huh. Smart man,” He said, smiling a bit. “I really dig the whole eco-warrior thing. I kind of invented it in the nineties. It’s great. Hang onto those principles, Hansen.”

“Uh. Okay. Thank you sir.”

“You can go. HR will be in touch about the promotion, iron out any details.”

“Thank you.”

“Great,” Jonathan said. He was already on the phone. “Sally, cancel my tee time for next week -”

Evan walked out of the office, still holding on to his offer, written in pen with a lot of zeros. A lot of zeros. Wow. 

He was so shocked that he walked into his office, picked up his ice coffee and walked out of the office, into the elevator, down to the first floor and into a cab where he headed to a deli, picked up food, and headed to the bookstore. 

As he was paying for his lunch, his phone rang. 

“Evan Hansen,” He said as he handed over cash to the cashier. 

“Mr. Hansen! This is Miranda Santiago from McLaren, Hunt, and Simon. Do you have a moment to talk?”

“Uh, yes, go ahead.”

“We’ve heard about your win for Kendra McCool. Congratulations! You did something really impressive. We wanted to set up a meeting with you to discuss your future -”

“I’m sorry,” Evan said, confused. “Are you offering me a job?”

“Cut to the chase, I like it. Yes, Mr. Hansen, we’d like to offer you position at our firm. We’re prepared to offer you double your current salary.”

Evan blinked a few times. What. The fuck. He stared at the phone for a moment, sure he was dreaming, sure in five seconds he would find himself staring into his own reflection in his bathroom, his mouth tasting like vomit. 

But he wasn’t dead, apparently, so he.  Agreed to a meeting. Walked out of the deli, dazed, holding a bag full of food and traveled the three blocks to Connor’s work. 

“Hey,” He said when he walked in and saw Connor behind the register. “I brought lunch.”

“Oh,” Connor said, and he looked surprised. “Normally I bring you lunch.”

“I had a free lunch hour,” Evan said, smiling. “Can you sneak away for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “Leslie, do you mind?”

“If there’s something for me to eat, I don’t mind at all,” She said and Evan smiled, presenting her with a container of Matzo ball soup. “Always knew I liked you Evan,” She said. “Go, go, I’ll be fine here.”

Connor and Evan trooped upstairs, and Connor grinned as he pulled out a container of potato salad. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” Evan said. 

“Seriously, come on -”

“Seriously,” Evan said. “Nothing.” He put the piece of paper that Jonathan had given him in front of him. “I got a raise.”

Connor’s eyebrows went up. “Wow. That’s a lot of zeros.”

“It gets worse,” Evan said. “I got a call. From Richard McLaren’s office, with a counteroffer. For twice what I currently make.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“I thought there was no money in environmental law,” Connor muttered. “Larry’s an idiot.”

Evan said honestly, “I never expected this.”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “Is it weird that I kind of want to call my dad and rub this in his face?”

“Don’t,” Evan said, laughing. “I don’t need him learning that I got a raise for beating him. Or that I got a job offer. He already hates me.”

“I know. It’s my favorite thing about you.”

“Shut up and eat your potato salad,” Evan said. 

* * *

 

Connor’s sitting on his living room sofa after work in his way too hot apartment in his boxers and a t-shirt, eating caramel popcorn and vanilla ice cream when his phone rings. He swallows, then answers it without really thinking about it. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hello Connor, this is your father.”

 

Connor puts down his spoon. “Uh, hey.”

 

“I’m going to be in New York for work next week,” says Larry Murphy. “I thought we could catch up for a drink.” 

 

Connor doesn’t want to catch up with his dad for a drink. Not really. He barely talks to his dad. He doesn’t think he’s seen his dad in person since the shit show that was Thanksgiving. Before that, it was last August when Larry had decided that he needed to talk to Connor about the whole ‘buying a bookstore’ thing and insisted on meeting Evan because he was acting as Connor’s legal counsel and Evan had been so fucking nervous and Larry had been such a fucking dick. 

 

But then Evan and Larry went head to head in court and Evan kicked his ass. 

 

Might be nice to rub Larry’s face in it a little. 

 

“Sure,” Connor says finally. “Just tell me what works for you.”

 

“I’ll have my secretary email you the details,” Larry says, and then the call is over and Connor is left looking at his phone. 

 

“Fuck you,” he says, and goes back to eating his ice cream. 

 

The next day, Connor decides to take Evan some food on his lunch break. There’s a deli a couple of blocks away from Evan’s work that does a really fucking good potato salad and grilled chicken. Evan had mentioned last time Connor had picked up lunch from there that apparently they give a discount if you bring your own container, so Connor dutifully brings two appropriately sized Tupperware containers with him.

 

Somehow Connor is now a person who owns Tupperware. Thanks, Mom. 

 

When he gets to Evan’s office, the receptionist smiles at him and he smiles back, and he makes his way to Evan’s desk where he is, as Connor expected, completely focused on his computer and shows no sign of having left his desk in a while. 

 

“Lunch,” Connor announces, then hands Evan a Tupperware container and one of the forks he’d remembered to bring from home. He sits on the edge of Evan’s desk and opens his own container and pulls out his own fork, only to realize that Evan’s looking at the container, frowning. “You okay, man?”

 

“Did you… since when did you own Tupperware?” Evan asks, finally looking at Connor. 

 

Connor shrugs. “Mom decided I needed fucking Tupperware so she sent me some, I don’t know?” He shows his own container. “Food’s from that deli you like. Remember how you said they give you a discount for bringing your own container?”

 

Evan’s face breaks into a smile. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

 

Connor grins back. “Yeah, well. Gotta love a bargain.” With that, he stabs a chunk of potato, then a chunk of chicken, then shoves it into his mouth. He’s pleased to see Evan doing the same. 

 

They sit and eat in companionable silence for a while. One of Evan’s colleagues stands up and waves at Connor and Connor waves back. Evan turns to see who it is, then looks back at Connor, then back at his food. 

 

“Mariah thinks you’re hot, you know,” Evan says, looking like he’s trying not to smirk. “She keeps asking me if I’ll set you guys up.”

 

Connor snorts. “Did you mention I’m gay?”

 

“Several times,” Evan says, and now he’s actually smirking. “She says you don’t dress well enough to be gay.”

 

Connor actually cracks up laughing at that. It’s louder than it should be he and gets a couple of dirty looks from other people in the office. “I’ll be sure to step it up next time I visit,” Connor says after a moment. “Or maybe I should just bust out my best ‘yaaaaas kween’.”

 

Evan gives him a withering look. “Please never say that again.”

 

“I regretted the words the minute they left my mouth.” Connor takes another bite of his potato salad, then changes the subject. “So my dad wants to get a drink next week.”

 

Evan nods. “I heard he’d be in town next week,” he says conversationally. 

 

“Lawyer grapevine, huh?”

 

Evan shrugs. “I guess. He’s… I mean, he doesn’t live in the city but he’s still kind of a big deal here. A well-enough known name.”

 

Connor grins. “And you kicked his ass.”

 

Evan actually looks embarrassed. “I think he just underestimated me,” Evan says, for what feels like the millionth time. “Came in unprepared because he’d met me last year and thought I was a complete joke.”

 

“And you showed him,” Connor says firmly. “You showed him that underestimating you is a serious mistake. Because you’re a fucking badass.”

 

Evan sighs. “I didn’t… I didn’t kick his ass,” he says, and he’s said this a million times, too. “I just… I had facts and logic and the law on my side. He hadn’t done the work. It’s not about me being better than him-”

 

“You’re better than him,” Connor interrupts. “You’re a way, way, way better person than he is.”

 

Evan kind of clears his throat and stabs at his potato salad aggressively and Connor decides to change the subject.

 

“Anyway he’ll probably want to meet in some super fancy bar,” Connor says, as blasé as he can, “so at least there might be good whisky.”

 

Evan rolls his eyes, but looks relieved that Connor’s stopped talking about the epic courtroom throw down. “You and your pretentious asshole whisky.”

 

* * *

When Mariah said everyone was talking about him, Evan realized that… she was not kidding. After the call from Richard McLaren’s firm, Evan got two calls and an email requesting meetings with him to discuss “opportunities” and his “future.” One of them was in Boston and he turned it down immediately. He wasn’t moving to Boston and he hadn’t had the requisite five years of practice which would mean potentially sitting the bar exam again and Nope. 

He was never taking that fucking thing ever again. 

Evan did agree to take the other meetings though. Several meetings, two of which were the McLaren firm coming back to offer him more shit. It was bonkers. Out of control. He kept thinking he was drunk or dreaming when people presented him with numbers. And this was only one big case. 

Mariah was basically the best cheerleader he could hope for, convincing him to let himself be wooed, arguing that he needed to start making outrageous demands just to see how much these firms wanted him. 

“Ask for vacation time.”

“Nobody gets vacation time,” Evan said. 

“Yeah, but nobody gets wooed like this either. Ask for it. Ask for ten whole days.”

“No, that’s too much. I can’t ask for that.”

“Ask about student loan forgiveness too,” Mariah went on. 

“Oh my god, no, that’s super greedy.”

“Dude, like. You’re a hot commodity. You can afford to be a little bit greedy. You earned it.” She looked carefully at him over the sandwich she was eating. “How much is McLaren offering you?”

“More. A lot more,” Evan confessed. “But I’d never take it, I fucking can’t stand Richard McLaren. He’s a prick.”

“Yeah, Asher said. He interned for him too.” She chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. “I know you’d hate to work for the guy, but dude. You could buy a house. Like, it would have to be in Jersey, but it would still be a house.”

“Jonathan doesn’t have to know I’m not seriously considering the offer,” Evan said, mostly to himself.

Mariah’s eyes lit up. “Holy shit. You're a genius. Tell him they offered you vacation time.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “I have to be smart about this. I can’t go in there and threaten to walk, then I’ll _have_ to take the McLaren job.”

“I’m not saying walk in and demand you get a swimming pool full of gold coins like you’re some sort of child emperor. I’m saying you tell Jonathan you’re being wooed. Like, seriously wooed.”

Evan eyed her suspiciously. "Maybe you should take the McLaren offer."

“Gross, never. I'm just saying, go tell Jonathan that you're worth more than he's offering. It’s what I would do,” She said with a shrug. “But maybe I’m just a little too Slytherin.”

She had a point.

So Evan called McLaren’s office. He got them to raise their offer by ten percent, promise him at least two weeks of vacation, and throw in a student loan package. Once the offer letter was emailed to Evan, he walked over to Jonathan’s office and saw he was talking on his bluetooth headset while he practiced his golf swing. So much for eco warrior. 

“Hansen!” he said, beaming at him. He’d definitely had his teeth professionally whitened. “Come in.” He then said, “Yeah good catch up Larry. Yeah, yeah, we kicked your ass, I know. We’ll go dinner next time you’re in town. Next week? Yep, of course, bye now.” Jonathan smirked over at Evan. “Larry Murphy. He’s still licking his wounds after your showdown.”

Evan smiled, sort of bashfully. 

“Did you really imply he was anti-semitic?”

“Not on the record,” Evan said honestly. “And not in the courtroom. But he started gloating before the jury came back and I might have… lost my temper a bit.”

“That’s why I like you, Hansen. You’re ballsy.” He gave Evan a smile. “So. What’s up? Got another big case to bring home the bacon for me?”

“Uh, no, actually,” Evan said, clearing his throat. “I got an offer. From Richard McLaren’s office. They. Uh. They want to hire me. Potentially bring me on as a junior partner in the next five years.”

Jonathan’s face paled considerably. He publicly hated Richard. He bitched about him constantly and made it a point to steal as many clients as he could from the guy. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He put down his golf club. “Well you’re not going to take it, are you? You hate McLaren.”

“It is an attractive offer,” Evan said, shrugging. “I mean. They’re offering vacation time, a better insurance plan, a 401k, student loan forgiveness. It’s pretty hard to say no to.”

“But McLaren’s an asshole.”

Evan nodded. “He is. But he’s got a lot of clout, a lot of connections. I mean, the networking alone… Plus the benefits they’re offering, and the signing bonus?”

“Gimme numbers, Hansen, what are they offering?”

Evan told him. 

“Fuck me,” Jonathan said, his eyes going wide. “Vacation time too?”

“Ten days.”

“Jesus fuck, Hansen, you’re killing me. We _just_ gave you a raise!”

“You did and I’m so grateful for that,” Evan said. “But McLaren’s opening offer is still higher.” 

“Fucking McLaren,” Jonathan growled. 

“I think… I mean, it would be a shame to have to leave, because I do love the culture here. The people are great and the firm has a really solid vision. But I have to think about my future.” Evan knew he was laying it on thick, but he thought it was working. “I mean, you know law school in this city isn’t cheap. I need to be practical about what will give me the best shot at getting out of debt before I’m ninety.”

Jonathan practically growled. “Give me a couple of days to discuss it with the other partners. We’ll… We’ll see what we can do.”

“Thank you sir,” Evan said. “I do really appreciate it.”

“How important is the vacation time?” Jonathan said. 

“Very. My mother lives out of town. It would be nice to actually see her once in a while.”

“Shit. Fine. Three days, okay? Can I let you know in three days?”

“I told McLaren I would get back to them in two,” Evan said. “And if you can’t match it, I would really hate to leave them waiting…”

Jonathan shook his head. “Fuck, you’re killing me. Fine. I’ll let you know tomorrow.” He went back to practicing his swing. “Not fucking losing our best new associate to Richard McFucking McLaren.” He nodded at Evan. “You can go.”

“Thank you again, sir.”

“Fuck you, we both know you didn’t win the McCool case by being all ‘yes, sir,’ ‘no, sir,’” Jonathan said irritably. 

“Do we?” Evan said innocently. 

Jonathan shook his head. “Get out of here before I let you go to McLaren out of spite.”

Evan got up and left quickly, having effectively managed to get under his boss’s skin. 

Mariah met him around the corner. “He looked pissed.”

“He said they’d make a counter offer tomorrow,” Evan said and Mariah, very unsubtly, whooped. 

Everyone looked at her. 

“Sorry. Uh. Just got my period. You know how I love to bleed!”

“Fuck, Mariah, why not just tell _everyone_?” Evan said, smiling a bit. 

“I will. Once you have it in writing,” She said. “You know the best way to negotiate salaries is to know everyone’s salary. Watch out boys, I’m next.”

* * *

 

 

It turns out that Connor’s not wrong about the whisky. When he gets to the bar of the way too fancy hotel his father is staying in, they have the 25 year old Chivas, so Connor orders himself a glass then looks around to see his dad at a table near the side of the room, clearly writing an email on his phone. 

 

“Wish me luck,” says Connor to the bartender, who just smiles at him. 

 

Connor takes a seat across from his dad, puts his whisky down on the table and waits for him to notice he’s there. It takes a few moments, but eventually Larry Murphy looks up. 

 

“Good,” he says. “You’re here.”

 

“Nice to see you too, Larry.”

 

“How have you been?” 

 

“Fine,” says Connor as bluntly as he can. He picks up the glass of whisky then takes a sip. It goes down warm and smooth. 

 

They sit there for a while in silence. Connor’s got no fucking clue why his dad decided to have a drink with him, so he’s happy to just sit and wait him out. Connor finishes his drink, then his dad genuinely snaps his finger at one of the bar staff in this way too fucking fancy bar and the guy scurries over, and it’s all really fucking cringe-worthy. 

 

“Connor, what are you drinking?” Larry asks. 

 

“25 year old Chivas,” Connor says, trying to emote, like, some kind of sympathy toward this hotel worker who his dad is apparently going to fucking ignore. 

 

His dad nods with something like approval. “Good choice. I’ll have the same.”

 

“Two whiskys,” says the guy politely, and he heads off back to the bar, and Connor doesn’t manage to thank him before he goes, which kind of embarrasses him, because his dad might be a rich asshole but Connor doesn’t want to fucking act like one. 

 

Larry turns to Connor. “I’m hearing good things about your friend Evan Hansen,” he says, his tone a little too pointed to be truly just making conversation. “He’s proving himself quite the attorney.”

 

“Must have stung to lose to a rookie,” Connor can’t help but say, and Larry looks annoyed for a moment but then his expression smooths out. 

 

“He’s… passionate about his particular causes,” Larry says after a moment. “He came prepared. Knew his material, almost obsessively.” Larry sniffs. “Not sure how he’d hold up in any other kind of case, but when it comes to environmental law, he knows his stuff.”

 

That’s a back-handed fucking compliment if Connor’s ever heard one, and he wants to argue on Evan’s behalf, but his dad doesn’t give him the chance. “And what about you? Your mother tells me you’re still going ahead with that ridiculous plan of yours to buy a bookstore.”

 

“I’ve been planning on it for over a year now,” Connor says bluntly. “So yeah, it’s still going ahead. I’m taking over officially in August.”

 

The waiter appears with their drinks. Connor makes sure to thank the guy, whereas Larry just ignores him. “You do realize that you’re wasting your time, right?” 

 

Connor tenses. “I’m wasting my time?” he repeats coldly. 

 

“You don’t have the experience needed to run a business,” Larry says, and he’s saying it like it’s fact, like the way you’d say “it’s sunny today” or “water is wet”. “If you’d really wanted to run a business, you would have gone through business school like I suggested ten years ago. Instead, you studied English literature. That’s not going to prepare you for this.” He looks at Connor, his gaze withering. “It’s not too late to back out. I’m sure there’s a way to get out of it. That is, if your lawyer knows anything about contracts.”

 

“First of all, my lawyer kicked your ass in court,” Connor shoots back. “And I’m already running a business. I’ve been a manager for over a year, I’ve had sole responsibility since February. I am already running a fucking business.”

 

“Once you buy this store,” Larry continues, “when it fails, it’s all on you. Even if it has been open for a couple of years-”

 

“Nearly thirty years.”

 

Larry keeps going like he hasn’t heard Connor. “It doesn’t matter, you’re still opening a new business. And most new businesses fail in the first two years.” He laughs a little, completely without humor. “It’s like you want to run your life into the ground. Do you enjoy wasting your potential? Is it entertaining for you?”

 

Connor downs the rest of his whisky so he doesn’t just start screaming. “Obviously. I’m having a blast,” he says with a roll of his eyes. There’s an increasingly growing rock in his stomach and he’s cold all over and the whisky isn’t warming him up, and he didn’t come here to be fucking lectured. “Thanks for the whisky.” 

 

He moves to stand up and just leave but Larry isn’t finished. “Most people don’t get second chances like you did, Connor. You need to be smart about this.”

 

Connor freezes. 

 

He’s cold all over. 

 

“What do you mean by second chances?” he asks bitterly. 

 

Larry looks at him and he’s frowning and for the tiniest moment, he looks horribly, horribly sad. His expression smoothes over to something professional and bland and Connor hates it, he hates all of it, he hates this and he wants to leave, but he needs his dad to fucking say it.

 

“Someone like you,” Larry says slowly, “who went through the things you did as a teenager, needs to be very careful about the decisions they make.”

 

“So you’re saying that because I have a mental illness, I can’t be trusted to run a business,” Connor says flatly. “Really. That’s what you’re saying.”

 

“What happens when it all falls apart, Connor?” Larry asks, and he’s frowning again. “How are you going to cope with it? Are you just going to not get out of bed for a month? Refuse to leave the house? Stop sleeping? Are we going to find you bleeding out in a bathtub again, just because things haven’t gone your way?”

 

Connor actually thinks his heart stops. It’s happened before, he knows what it feels like and it feels a lot like this.

 

“Or maybe you’ll just get high,” Larry continues, like it’s just occurred to him. “It’s not like it’s hard to find drugs in New York City.” He rolls his eyes. “Is that why you insisted on moving here?” 

 

Connor opens his mouth to argue, scream, something, but Larry just keeps going. “You were supposed to be smarter than this. You were supposed to be smart. Your sister has a PhD, a responsible job, and you were always smarter than her. If you spent as much time focusing on your future as you did on actively self-destructing, who knows what you might have accomplished by now?” 

 

“Fuck you-”

 

“You need to use your brain. This is a stupid, unnecessary risk, and it’s not what your trust fund was supposed to be used for,” Larry continues. “It’s clear that you can’t handle this responsibility. You’ve never taken responsibility for anything in your life. Do you really want to declare bankruptcy before you’re thirty? Because that’s where you’re headed if you keep going with this plan. And I’m not going to bail you out when it fails.” 

 

Larry sits back finally, like he’s made his point, his eyes burning with anger and disdain. 

 

Connor feels like he’s… not really here. Like this isn’t really happening. 

 

He knows his dad isn’t his biggest fan, he’s always known that, but he wasn’t expecting… this. 

 

“Well, this has been fun,” Connor says, getting to his feet. “I guess you won’t be coming to the opening.”

 

Larry just looks at him, dumbfounded. “So you’re going ahead with this.”

 

“Of course I’m fucking going ahead with this,” Connor snaps. 

 

“Because you know I don’t want you to.”

 

“It’s got nothing to do with you!” Connor practically yells. “Fuck! I have worked hard and I have planned things and gone over pages and pages of boring as fuck legal documents making sure I understood the whole fucking thing, making sure I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. I’m doing this because I want this, I care about this, I… why am I even bothering explaining this to you? You wouldn’t understand. You’re never going to understand.”

 

“Have you actually found someone who knows anything about contract law,” Larry says, his voice more than a little bitter, “or are you just relying on your eco-warrior friend?”

 

“Fuck you,” says Connor, and he knows he’s being loud and he’s probably embarrassing himself but he doesn’t fucking care, he’s not about to let his dad just sit here and say shit like that about Evan, who works so fucking hard at his actual job and then spends hours and hours with Connor, making sure he understands the contracts, doing hours and hours or free legal work for him. 

 

“At least tell me you’re paying him,” says Larry, his voice caustic. “Maybe then he can afford a decent suit to wear to court.”

 

“Oh, fuck off,” Connor shoots back. “Like your bullshit expensive suit gave you any kind of advantage. You’re just pissed off because he’s a better lawyer than you.”

 

Larry genuinely laughs. Sips his whisky. “He got lucky,” Larry spits out. “Although I will say this for the kid - he put on a good show. He’s actually made something of himself, got himself through law school at NYU even though he went to community college and a state school. That takes work. That takes determination. He did something practical and worthwhile with his life and he didn’t have anywhere near the advantages you did. Imagine what  _ you _ could have done if you’d actually put your mind to it.” He rolls his eyes. “What a waste.” 

 

It takes everything in him not to fucking deck Larry in the face. Instead, he stands up, puts on his jacket and walks out of the hotel bar, out of the hotel and gets a cab back to the bookstore, all the while feeling like his head is about to explode with anger. 

 

When Connor’s finally in his apartment and finally alone, he lets out a scream of frustration, as loud as he fucking can, and he doesn’t care if the neighbors hear, he just needs to let it out. He screams himself hoarse and tries very hard to pretend that he’s angry, he’s just angry, he’s not… fucking devastated, too. 

 

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket. 

 

**Hope drinks with your dad aren’t too bad**

 

Connor stares at his phone and feels some of the anger drain out of him, just seeing Evan’s name at the top of the conversation. 

 

**If he’s a total dick, ask him about the orgasms found in the water sample**

 

Connor laughs a little. 

 

Gets a glass of water from the tap, then drinks it quickly, trying to soothe his throat. 

 

When he’s got better control over his shaking hands, he replies to Evan. 

 

**Just got home**

**Larry was a fucking charmer as usual**

 

Evan’s response is quick. 

 

**I’m sorry**

**You okay?**

**I can come over if you want**

 

Connor wants to ask Evan to come over. He really does. He wants Evan here, he wants to see Evan and his smile and his freckles and he wants Evan to tell him stories from his work, he wants Evan to tell him about his cases and distract him, he wants Evan to drag him into the bedroom and fuck him until he doesn’t have to think anymore, but…

 

If Evan comes over, Connor’s not going to be able to keep it together. And Evan doesn’t need to know how much of a failure Connor’s own father thinks he is. 

 

**Could have been worse**

**I have some paperwork to do, so**

**How about lunch tomorrow?**

 

Evan’s reply is quick, as usual. 

 

**Sounds good**

**Good luck with the paperwork**

**Make sure you do get some sleep, though**

 

**Pot. Kettle.**

 

**Shut up.**

**See you tomorrow.**

 

When Connor meets Evan for lunch the next day, he brushes off Evan’s questions about his dad and instead gets Evan talking about pollution case he’s working on. It’s nice, listening to his friend talk about something he’s passionate about. Since it’s Saturday, they have drinks with lunch, which turns into more drinks, which turns into heading back to Connor’s apartment and having more even drinks. 

 

Which of course leads to them having sex. A couple of times. 

 

By the time Evan heads home, Connor’s determined that he’s not going to let his father be right about this. 

 

He’s not going to let this fail. 

 

He can’t. 

 

Connor wakes up on Sunday morning just before eleven and realizes that something’s not quite right. He gets up, throws on his bathrobe and heads down the stairs to peek into the store to see that it’s dark. Which it shouldn’t be - Garrett should have opened it an hour ago. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Connor runs back upstairs, hastily throws on some clothes and heads back into the store. He opens up as quickly as he can, and there’s someone outside, who immediately complains that they should have been open at ten, and Connor apologizes profusely and fires off a text to Garrett, asking where he is. 

 

When the store is next empty, he calls Garrett, and the call gets disconnected immediately, as though he’s seen who’s calling and just hung up. 

 

The next time there’s a lull isn’t until 3 that afternoon, and Connor takes the time to call Gladys. When Connor explains what’s going on, Gladys is quiet. 

 

“He told me he’d resigned,” she says wearily, “but he said he’d talked to you.”

 

“He hadn’t,” Connor replies, trying not to sound as pissed off as he feels. “He just… didn’t show up. I didn’t wake up until just before 11, so…”

 

“Not to worry,” says Gladys. “These things happen.” She laughs a little. “Trust me, you’ll no doubt have all sorts of things go horribly wrong once you’re in charge of the place full time.”

 

Connor feels like shit for a moment. “I didn’t mean to make this your problem,” he says hurriedly. “I just wanted to know if you’d heard from him.”

 

“Rest assured he won’t be getting a good reference,” Gladys says drily. “This could be a blessing in disguise, Connor.”

 

“Because Garrett was kind of terrible?”

 

Gladys laughs. “You’ll need to hire someone new, and having a chance to do that while I still technically own the place - I’m happy to sit in on interviews with you.”

 

Connor can see her point. “Actually, that does sound good.”

 

“Let’s have a drink sometime in the next few days,” Gladys says, her voice matter-of-fact as always. “In the meantime, once you’re done today, perhaps look at putting up a job listing online. I can send you some outlines of what we’ve advertised for in the past. And see if Leslie’s keen on any overtime - if you’re hiring someone new, you don’t want to be picking up all those shifts yourself.”

 

“Fair point.”

 

“It might actually be worth hiring two new employees,” Gladys suggests. “Once you’re the owner, you might want a bit more flexibility. Obviously it’s up to you, but I’d at least consider it.”

 

Connor thinks about what his dad said about new businesses closing in the first year. If he hired two employees, that’s an extra person to pay, and that just makes it harder to break even. 

 

If he wants to do this, he’s going to have to put in the work himself. 

 

“I’ll think about it,” he says to Gladys, even though he knows he’s lying.

 

At around six, the frantic pace of the day has crawled to a halt and Connor’s just about to check his phone properly for the first time that day, as he can see he’s got some texts he needs to read, when the bell above the door rings and Evan walks in, takeout bag in hand. He looks surprised to see Connor on the store floor. 

 

“Why are you working?” Evan asks, frowning. “Did Garrett call in sick?”

 

“Nope,” Connor says, and he knows he sounds pissed off but Evan is the one person he can actually complain about this to. “He didn’t call in sick. He just didn’t show up. Or answer my texts. Or answer his phone when I called him.”

 

“What the fuck?” 

 

“I finally got a break and called Gladys, and he told her he quit,” Connor continues, almost surprised at the sheer bitterness in his voice. “He didn’t tell me. You know, the person who is actually his boss now.”

 

“Fuck,” Evan says, and he looks genuinely annoyed on Connor’s behalf, which untwists something inside Connor’s chest, just a little. “Connor, that’s fucked, I’m sorry.” 

 

“I didn’t wake up until just before 11,” Connor says, because he’s kind of on a roll now. “So didn’t get the store open until then, and… ugh, this is just what I need right now, fucking hell.” He laughs a little, completely without humor. “This just fucking figures. Of course someone just up and quits on me, without even telling me. Fantastic management skills. Really stellar. My-”

He manages to stop himself before he says what’s on the tip of his tongue. 

 

_ My dad was right when he said I couldn’t run a business.  _

 

First of all, that’s bullshit. Connor refuses to let his dad be right here. 

 

Second of all… 

 

He really, really, really doesn’t want to have to explain to Evan what his dad said to him on Friday. He really, really doesn’t. 

 

Honestly, he’d rather saw off his own foot than tell Evan what his dad said. 

 

“Your what?” Evan asks, still frowning. 

 

Connor shakes his head. “Nothing.”

 

“You were going to say something.”

 

Connor feels himself deflate. “I’m just really tired,” he says, and he rubs his face absently. “Ignore me, I’m being a drama queen about this whole thing.” 

 

“I don’t think you are,” Evan says immediately. He moves closer to Connor immediately and puts his hand on his shoulder, which makes Connor feel a little bit better. 

 

“I just don’t really need this right now,” Connor says, starting to feel a little panic rise up in him. “Now I have to hire someone brand new and train them and it might take ages to find the right person and what if it turns out I’m really bad at training? I’ve never trained anyone before. I might really suck at it. It’s a whole part of the job that I didn’t even think about until now, and that’s so stupid of me, I didn’t even think about training, oh my god-”

 

“Connor,” Evan interrupts, and it’s so unusual for him to be the one interrupting that it genuinely stops Connor in his tracks. 

 

He has to get a grip. 

 

He has got to get a grip. 

 

Connor tries to laugh. It falls flat. “Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, sorry, it’s… I’m definitely being a drama queen.” 

 

“It’s a stressful situation,” Evan says, and he puts the takeout bag on the counter. “But it looks like there’s no one here, so… why don’t you take a break and eat something? I got that sweet potato curry you like.”

 

Connor smiles, because that’s just so nice of Evan. “You didn’t have to-”

 

Evan rolls his eyes and grins a little. “Remember how I said I was getting a raise?” he says, his tone a little teasing. “I can afford to buy you dinner.”

 

“Thanks,” says Connor, and Evan heads into the staff kitchen and grabs some forks, then they both stand and eat behind the counter for a while. No one comes into the store in the half an hour it takes for them to eat, and they end up chatting for a while about Evan’s various job offers, which were still pouring in. 

 

“Guess you really did make waves by kicking my dad’s ass, huh?” Connor says with a smile after Evan tells him he’d gotten yet another email. Evan turns pink, and Connor continues before he can say anything else. “And none of this whole humble thing, come on. You’re awesome. I’m glad everyone can see that.”

 

“Speaking about your dad, he wasn’t too horrible when you saw him, was he?” Evan asks, his face open and sympathetic. “I know I kind of… embarrassed him, so I hope he didn’t… take it out on you or anything.” He frowns a little. “You didn’t say much yesterday about it.”

 

“Nothing to say,” Connor lies. “He was just… same old, you know?”

 

“Did he say why he wanted to meet you?” Evan asks, sounding a little curious. “Or was it genuinely just a catch up?”

 

“Just a catch up,” Connor says, as casually as he can, and Evan’s got this weird look on his face, kind of suspicious, like he’s not sure he believes Connor. “I mean, it wasn’t fun, exactly, but I got a couple of glasses of good whisky out of it, so…” Connor shrugs and finishes the last of his curry.

 

“You and your pretentious asshole whisky,” Evan says, and he still looks suspicious but there’s something fond in his expression, too. “I should just buy us a bottle. You shouldn’t have to have to deal with your dad just to get nice alcohol.”

 

“I shouldn’t have to deal with my dad at all,” Connor says with a roll of his eyes. “If he could just stay back home instead of showing up in the city all the time, that would be great.” He smirks at Evan. “Here’s hoping he stays away for a while. He probably needs recovery time since you ripped him a new one in court.”

 

Evan’s definitely blushing and it’s super cute. Once they finish their meals, a young woman shows up and asks some questions about a book series she’d heard of. Connor takes a bit of time talking to her, as it’s a series he’s read, and she seems interested in what he has to say. She ends up buying all five books in the series, so Connor throws in a free tote bag and she gives him a big smile as she leaves. As soon as she’s out of the store, Evan starts laughing. 

 

“That girl definitely wanted in your skinny jeans,” Evan says as Connor turns to look at him. 

 

“She can’t have my jeans,” Connor says immediately. “I only just got them ripped at the knee exactly where I want them.”

 

Evan laughs even more. “Oh my god.” He kind of tilts his head. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever really seen you in sales pitch mode. You’re really good at it?”

 

“I didn’t think I had a sales pitch mode,” Connor replies, feeling a little awkward. 

 

Evan bites his lip and scrunches up his nose, like he’s trying to figure out how to explain. “It’s more that you’re… it’s not really a sales pitch mode,” he clarifies. “It’s like… you really love books and it kind of spills over to the customers, and before they know if they’ve forked over all their hard earned cash. It’s… genuine. At least, it looks genuine.” Evan scrunches up his nose again. “I’m not making any sense.”

 

“I get it,” Connor assures him, and honestly, it’s kind of nice to hear Evan say that. It makes him feel like he’s not going to completely fuck up everything. 

 

Evan hangs out with him until closing, then they head upstairs and watch something on Netflix, and Connor feels himself relaxing a little. 

 

His dad is just bitter and pissed that Evan beat him in court, and he lashed out because he’s embarrassed. Connor’s got this. He’ll hire someone new, he’ll figure out the training, he’ll get everything running smoothly and he’ll prove his dad wrong. 

 

Connor stays up late writing a job advertisement and sleeps through his first alarm on Monday morning, barely waking up to open on time. The day goes by, relentlessly busy. 

 

So does Tuesday. On Tuesday night, Connor calls to cancel his appointment with Praveed the next morning. He just doesn’t have time this week.

 

He’ll reschedule when things calm down. It’ll be fine. 

* * *

 

Evan felt a bit… guilty about going out for drinks on a Friday evening with Sabrina, and it had everything to do with the fact that he had kept things deliberately vague when Connor had asked him what his plans were. 

“Oh I have a drinks thing Friday after work.”

“Cool. Let me know if you want to hang out after.”

“Sure.”

Evan should have just told him. But if he told Connor, Connor might worry, and Connor was busy and the sale of the store was going to be final in a few months and Connor had seen his dad and it seemed to have put Connor in a weird mood which he was deliberately not telling Evan about. Evan thought Connor might be a bit distracted and he worried Larry had said something to Connor about, like, going to business school again so basically he was using whatever had happened to justify not telling Connor that he and Sabrina were talking more and that she was going to be in the city for a few interviews and they were getting drinks. 

When she walked in, Evan was struck again by just how gorgeous she really was. He didn’t have feelings past affection for her anymore, but she really was beautiful. She had on a high waisted skirt and a blouse, and an eye catching cerulean blazer. He always admired her commitment to bright colors, even though he knew it wasn’t always an easy feat to accomplish because according to Sabrina “nobody is making good clothes for fat babes.”

But she always looked really nice, and today in particular she looked great and she pulled him in for a hug when she arrived in the bar. She had on low heels but she was still a lot shorter than he was, so Evan had to stoop to hug her properly. When they used to kiss he would get backaches and a sore neck. 

“You look nice,” She said, tugging slightly at his lapels. “Very sharp.”

“You too. How’d your interviews go?” Evan asked. 

“Well, not to brag, but I’ve already gotten a call with an offer from the first one I went on,” Sabrina said, taking her seat at the bar. 

“You should totally brag about that, that’s awesome!”

“Thanks,” Sabrina said. She got the attention of the bartender quickly, ordering a pear martini for Evan and a cosmo for herself. “Now, I heard through the grapevine, meaning I heard from Siobhan who talked to Zoe Murphy, that you totally kicked ass in court last month?”

“I uh… yeah, I won a pretty big case,” Evan said, shrugging like it was no big deal. “Against Zoe and Connor’s dad.”

“Damn,” Sabrina said and she was beaming. “Look at you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Well now me saying that I got nominated for but didn’t win teacher of the year seems a bit silly.”

“Uh, no? It’s not? You’ve only worked there for two years, that’s incredible.”

Sabrina smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“How’s the move coming along?”

Sabrina nodded. “We’ve potentially found a place to live. I think Graham might move out here by the end of June, and I’ll stay back and pack our place up and come out by July or August.”

“And being apart?”

“Oh I’m gonna hate it, but it is what is is.” She shrugged as their drinks were delivered. “We’re doing a lot better this time, right?”

“Totally,” Evan said. 

“We should drink on it,” She said, and they gently tapped their glasses together. Evsan smiled at her, and this was exactly why he had always liked her. Their first interaction in college had been pretty similar. She had slid into the seat beside him in the lecture hall, announced that she knew they hadn’t talked much in high school but she was going to need someone to study with in the literature class they had together, and all but decided then and there that they were skipping the awkward and becoming friends. She was confident in all of the places he was awkward and being around her always made Evan feel safe. 

Well. Until it didn’t. 

But that feeling was there now, a bit quieter, a little more cautious, but it was there. Sabrina was safe. He could relax a bit. 

“My dad asked about you,” Sabrina said after a while. 

“Oh?” Evan was sort of delighted to hear that. He had been pretty close with Sabrina’s family when they were together, but he had always thought her dad didn’t care for him much and mostly they just talked to each other about gardening. 

“Yeah, he wanted to know how you were doing and everything. I think he misses you a bit, honestly.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, dude, he has three girls,” Sabrina said. “I think he liked having another guy around. And you know, you were the only one who ever cared about his zucchinis.” 

Evan shrugged. “I just thought it was cool that he cared about growing his own food?”

“You should email him sometime. I think he would be excited to hear from you.”

“Oh, you think? I sort of worried it would be weird.”

“Fuck weird man, we are way past weird.” Sabrina took a sip of her drink. 

Evan couldn’t put into words just how far past weird his life was now, so he nodded and smiled at her. 

They got pretty buzzed and decided to move drinks to a tapas place across the street. “Can I be the lamest person in the world and ask Graham to join us?” Sabrina asked. “He was out schmoozing and he misses me.”

“Sure, he should join us,” Evan said. 

“You should invite Connor too.”

“I -” Evan stopped. Because he didn’t know what to say for himself, because if he told Sabrina he had lied to Connor about where he was tonight he would look like someone who was super weird and treating drinks with an ex as a clandestine affair. “Yeah, okay, I’ll call him.”

So Evan took his phone out and called Connor, who should have just finished closing the store. When Connor picked up, Evan said, as lightly as he could, “Do you want to come and have tapas with Sabrina, Graham, and I?”

“You’re out with Sabrina?” Connor sounded surprised. Or annoyed. Evan couldn’t exactly be sure.

“Yep. I’ve heard this place is really good. You should come.”

“Why did I think you said you had work drinks tonight?” Connor asked, and he definitely sounded annoyed then, Evan realized. 

“I’m not sure. I’m sorry, maybe I was -” He started, feeling terrible, wishing he had just told Connor that he was going out with Sabrina. 

“Not a big deal. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Evan said emphatically. “I just thought maybe you were hungry? There’s sangria?”

“Tell him nobody will threaten to tackle him this time!” Sabrina said and Evan rolled his eyes. 

“Text me the address?”

“You’re going to come?”

“Of course. Let me just… change clothes quick and I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.” Evan texted Connor the address and then looked over at Sabrina sheepishly. 

“Oh don’t worry about it, I knew he didn’t like me already,” She said. “Let’s get a pitcher of sangria while we wait.”

“He doesn’t not like you,” Evan lied. Badly.

“He doesn’t like me and I get it. I’m the big bad ex, you know? I understand that my appeal is confusing to him. It’s not a big deal. He’ll like me by the end of dinner, I’m sure. It’s fine.”

“You’re very confident in your charm,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. 

“I am irresistible.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty,” Sabrina said. She started waving, and Evan realized she had spotted Graham over Evan’s shoulder. He took a breath, preparing himself. Graham walked to their table, kissing Sabrina’s cheek and very unexpectedly pulling Evan in for a one armed bro hug. Huh. 

“How are you, man?”

“Good, I’m good,” Evan said. “You?”

“Just spent four hours sucking up to my new bosses so I am excited to have a drink with my girl and her friend.” Graham said it all like it was so easy, like Evan and Sabrina being friends was a given rather than a work in progress. “Is your boyfriend joining us?”

Evan choked on his water. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Graham’s brows knit together. “Babe, I thought you said that Connor was his boyfriend now.”

Sabrina sighed. “I said that Evan is bi and he sometimes dates guys. Connor did not come up in that conversation.”

“Sorry,” Graham said and he sounded genuinely apologetic. “Sorry. That’s on me, I assumed.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Evan said, while at the same time trying to figure out what the fuck Sabrina had said which had led to her saying that Evan was bi and it wasn’t that Evan wasn’t open about being bi but he just couldn’t imagine how it would have come up and honestly if it was about pegging he would be pretty pissed unless Sabrina was also pegging Graham and. 

Okay drunk thoughts, focus. 

“Speaking of… anything happening there? With you and Connor?” Sabrina asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“No,” Evan said, and he knew from his tone that she got the message.

Sabrina was giving him an apologetic smile, like “oops sorry,” and Evan forgot that he used to spend so much of his time surrounded by straight people. Having Connor for a best friend and Mariah for a work bestie meant never having to justify his queerness, and he’d sort of forgotten how uncomfortable it was. 

Graham got in on their pitcher of sangria and maybe fifteen minutes later, Connor arrived, wearing that blazer Evan really liked, and he was frowning just a little until he spotted Evan looking at him. Then he smiled, and Evan felt his stomach erupt in butterflies. Fuck. Connor politely greeted both Graham and Sabrina and then sat beside Evan, bumping his shoulder to say hello. 

“Connor, hi,” Sabrina said. “Oh my god, so you’re officially the owner of that bookstore in less than three months, how pumped are you?”

“I’m really excited,” Connor said but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and Evan frowned, trying to work out what he might be thinking. “Though I… I’m down one employee now, so I’ve got to figure that out.”

“Oh?” Graham said. 

“One of my staff resigned without bothering to tell me,” Connor said and Evan could see from the way he was holding himself that he was tense, that he didn’t want to talk about this. 

“Garrett was a shitty employee,” Evan chimed in. “He was good with customers but unreliable and impossible to coach. Frankly, I’d be happy you didn’t have to fire him and risk getting stuck paying out unemployment.”

“He’s got a point,” Graham said. “Probably better for you that he quit. Now you can hire someone who is actually good.”

“Yeah,” Connor said, but he didn’t sound like he had been convinced or reassured, in fact his shoulders seemed to be creeping higher and higher and Evan wanted to smooth them down, rub a hand along Connor’s back and let him know that he believed in him but that would be very inappropriate for this venue so Evan did the next best thing and poured Connor some sangria. 

“Owning a bookstore sounds like the best job,” Sabrina went on. 

“Managing one has been pretty good so far,” Connor said, ducking his head a little. “I get to talk to a lot of people about books, and there’s a discount so. It’s nice.”

“Do you get to read a lot? Or is that just my wishful thinking?”

“I do get to read a lot,” Connor said, smiling slightly. “I actually love writing the staff recommendations?”

“He writes really great staff recommendations,” Evan said, smiling. “He does a really great job of capturing the mood of a book.”

“Oh? You have time to read now?” Sabrina said, and Evan knew she was kidding but there was some honesty to that. He never had time to read for fun when they were together.

“For my birthday last year, Connor basically sat me down with a book and told me I was a national tragedy for not reading more.”

“He was. I’m trying to help him.”

“He said he wouldn’t hang out with me if I didn’t read more.”

“Liar.”

“It was heavily implied.”

They took turns picking out small plates to try out. Evan and Sabrina agreed to split a few vegetarian options, and Connor and Graham picked out a few seafood things to split and Evan was relieved that it was actually, mostly, a really nice time. 

Connor seemed to relax once they stopped talking about his work. He and Graham even realized a mutual love of Edgar Allan Poe and they cracked a lot of jokes back and forth about various things the raven could have said instead of “nevermore” and Sabrina said she thought her sister was gay but hadn’t come out yet and Evan, his tongue a little loose from drinking, laughed and reminded Sabrina that if Tabitha was gay, Sabrina owed Evan twenty dollars. 

“Evan’s got impeccable… what did we call it? Not gaydar but-”

“Bi-Fi,” Evan said, shrugging and Connor laughed beside him and Graham looked uncomfortable but overall it was okay. 

“Evan can spot a queer person from a mile away,” Connor joked. 

“Please, my eyesight isn’t that good.”

“Yeah but you work on the twenty second floor!”

“I do sometimes look down at the street and go, oh look, gays!”

Sabrina laughed so hard sangria nearly came out of her nose and that was when they decided it was time to ask for the check. Sabrina hugged both Evan and Connor for a long moment when they got up to leave, telling them she’d be in touch to let them know when they had officially moved soon. 

“Do you want to split a Lyft back with me?” Evan asked Connor as they left the restaurant. 

“How come you didn’t tell me you and Sabrina were getting drinks?” He said instead of answering. “You could have just told me.”

“I know,” Evan said, guilt crashing over him again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to-”

“I don’t get why you want to be friends with her,” Connor said, frowning. 

Evan didn’t know what to say. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “I guess… I dunno. We were good friends before we dated and she’s… Important to me.”

“Right,” Connor said. 

“Are you, like, mad at me?” Evan said uncertainly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I just know you sometimes worry when it comes to Sabrina and I didn’t want to add that to your plate.”

Connor sighed. “Just. I just want you to be careful.”

“I am being careful.”

“No you’re not,” Connor said, and he sounded frustrated, angry even. “You’re not careful when it comes to her. You drink too much and lie to me and hang out with her fucking boyfriend -”

“Fiance,” Evan corrected softly. “They’re engaged.”

“You know, normally people don’t hang out with their ex’s new guy,” Connor said. “Usually they don’t hang out with their exes at all.”

“Oh how would you know? You’ve only been on one date in your entire life.” 

Fuck. 

Evan hadn’t meant to say that. He’d just. Connor had pissed him off and he. Fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that, he hadn’t meant for that to slip out, Connor had just touched a nerve and Evan had lashed out and shit. Shit that was awful.  “Fuck. Connor. Fuck, that was so rude of me to say, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, I’m so sorry.”

Connor sighed. “It’s fine. You’re right.”

“No, I’m not, that was a dickish thing to say and I’m sorry.”

Connor shrugged. “I don’t like her. I’m sorry, I just don’t-”

“You don’t like Sabrina?” Evan clarified because, well, they had gotten along just fine inside. 

“I don’t like Sabrina. She’s just, Jesus, Evan, she’s just…:

“You don’t like her? You’ve met her twice!”

“Yeah and she was awful to you both times!”

“No she wasn’t,” Evan said, because that was no true that was blatantly not true, she had been absolutely one hundred percent kind and generous especially tonight and. “Connor are you…?” Evan’s voice died because he couldn’t actually ask the thing he wanted to ask, he couldn’t make himself spit out the words “are you jealous?” because that was so presumptuous, so preposterous. There was no way, even if that was how he was acting, even if it seemed like maybe that was what was going on...Evan had been jealous when Connor went out with Parker, was this him acting jealous? Was there anything for him to even be jealous about? There was no way, right, no way?

“Am I what?”

Evan cleared his throat. “Are you alright? You’ve seemed kind of… off. Lately. It kinda feels like you’re picking a fight and… Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Connor said, and his shoulders slumped. “No, I mean. I’m just…  I’m stressed out. About the store. Sorry. Just Garrett quit and I’ve got to hire someone new on top of all of the other stuff and I just. I’m sorry. I made this about me.”

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to come out tonight,” Evan said because he was sorry, he didn’t want to do that. “And for not saying something about going out with Sabrina, I just, fuck, I didn’t mean to like guilt you into coming-”

“You didn’t. I actually had a good time I’m just… tired. I should probably just get my own ride home.”

“You sure?” Evan asked. “I could come with you? We could just hang out?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks though.” Connor was getting out his phone. 

“You know you’re more important to me, right?” Evan said after a second. 

“What?” Connor was looking at him now. 

“I mean. Sabrina is great and all but you’re… you’re the best person I know, Connor, you’re my best friend. You’re more important.”

Connor nodded. “Okay. Sorry for… being weird about it.”

“It… it’s fine.”

Connor’s ride arrived a moment later. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

* * *

 

 

When Connor gets back to the bookstore after saying goodnight to Evan, there’s a part of him that wishes he’d asked Evan to come home with him. The bookstore feels big and empty and weird and overwhelming and he kind of just stands there in the dark for a long time before heading up to his apartment, looking around at the displays half-lit by the street lamps shining through the windows. 

 

This is going to be his in three months. All his responsibility. Whether it succeeds or it fails will be on him. 

 

Just him. 

 

His dad thinks he’s never taken responsibility for anything in his life, and, well…

 

He might be right. 

 

He really might be right. Fuck. 

 

“No,” he says aloud to the room. “Fuck that. Don’t let him get in your head.”

 

With that, he heads upstairs to his apartment, pulls a bottle of whisky from the cupboard and pours himself a glass. He knows he probably shouldn’t, because he’s had sangria already tonight, but even though he’s been out drinking he still feels like he needs a drink. 

 

Just. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Evan going out for drinks with Sabrina and not telling Connor because he doesn’t want Connor to worry is… 

 

Connor hates it. He really hates it, he hates that Evan didn’t tell him, not that Evan needs to tell him everything, and he hates most of all that Evan said he didn’t want him to worry, didn’t want him to fucking worry about Evan getting drinks with his ex and her fiance, fuck. 

 

“I didn’t want to add that to your plate.”

 

Does that mean Evan can see that Connor’s stressed, or does that mean that Evan thinks Connor can’t handle anything else on top of what he’s already doing? 

 

Evan said that Connor had seemed off, asked if he was okay, and it makes him feel heavy and unsettled, grips his insides with something cold and terrifying. 

 

It’s not Evan’s job to worry about Connor. He doesn’t want Evan to worry about him. He never wants Evan to worry at all, but especially not about him, and if he’s worrying him, if he’s seeming off and making Evan feel like he has to bring it up, then that’s bullshit, and that means Larry’s won, Larry’s got in his head and Connor’s not going to fucking let that happen. 

 

Connor opens up his laptop and has a look at the sales reports for May so far. 

 

They’re the same as they were when he checked them in the last hour of his shift tonight, before he headed out to drinks with Evan and Sabrina and Graham. 

 

Still low. Lower than April, lower than last May - lower than they should be, especially given how busy they’ve been.

 

Connor tries to tell himself it’s just an unexpected lull, that it doesn’t mean anything, but he’s looking at the sales figures over the last year and April’s down from last April and May’s significantly down from last May and…

 

Is he fucking this up? Is him being in charge affecting this somehow? 

 

Is this a sign of what’s to come?

 

There’s still time left in May to make up for things and who knows, maybe it’ll even out. It’d only take a few big sales days to push the figures up, but…

 

What if this is how things are going to be from now on? 

 

What if he is fucking this up?

 

“No,” he says aloud again. “Fuck that, no.” 

 

He’s not letting his father be right about this. He’s not. 

 

He’s just going to have to try harder. He’s just going to have to work harder. 

 

Connor will find a way to make this work. 

 

He has to. 


	16. June (One Year and Four Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I cannot believe you started talking about the breakdancing Stephen Hawking while I was in you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags! Have you read the tags? Stop it and read those tags!

Connor’s still not exactly sure what he’s doing when it comes to interviewing and hiring people, but he thinks he’s finally found someone he’s comfortable hiring. Her name is Maureen, she has pale pink hair and an undercut and big tortoiseshell glasses, and she and Connor had an in-depth discussion about The Stranger by Camus the first time she stopped by and out of everyone he’d seen, she was the only one who felt like a fit.

 

Funnily enough, she was also the only one who identified as other than straight. And, well, it’s not that Connor has anything against straight people (though he doesn’t actually think he knows any?) but the store has been owned and managed by the queer community for 30 years. It seems right to hire a half Filipino trans lesbian rather than some smart but boring white guys, although a lot of the boring white guys has been kinda hot in that nerdy glasses way.

 

Gladys seems pleased with Connor’s choice, but had also stayed silent through the whole hiring process, leaving Connor to ask the questions and make the decisions. She’d just kind of been there, not really having any input, which made Connor nervous but she kept saying that this is something he’d have to do alone eventually, that she was just here for support, that if he did something that seemed really stupid she’d have said something but he definitely seemed to have it under control.

 

Connor kind hates this voice in the back of his head that says that the minute Gladys isn’t there any more, he’s going to fuck this up beyond repair, because it sounds like his dad.

 

He spends a way too hot Tuesday night completely unable to sleep and takes the time to go through over the store paperwork, poring over every contract he’d worked through with Evan over the past year. There are post it notes all over them with questions and Evan’s neat, methodical answers, and Evan has put so many hours into this, hours and hours and hours of free legal help, and he keeps saying that it’s fine, that he doesn’t want Connor to pay him, but there has to be at least 100 hours of work at least.

 

 _At least tell me you’re paying him,_ says Larry Murphy’s voice in Connor’s head.

 

Connor does some googling, trying to figure out how much Evan should be charging him. The search continues well into the night, as do his calculations, and he comes to the conclusion that he owes Evan $70,000. At least.

 

Seventy thousand dollars, Jesus. And that’s just an estimate. Evan’s at prestigious firm - he probably charges more. And now that he’s got such a big win under his belt and a pay rise…

 

Fuck. This is probably a huge underestimation.

 

He could take it out of his trust fund? Give it to Evan somehow. It would be fair, it would make it all fair, but he’s about to have a mortgage and his trust fund has taken a huge hit and he really, really doesn’t want to declare bankruptcy before he’s 30 and Evan wouldn’t take it.

 

He knows Evan wouldn’t take it.

 

 _But this is wrong,_ a voice in his head insists, it’s not the proper way to run a business and really, he should make Evan take the money, he should get some kind of… contract between them or whatever, something that makes it all clear, makes it all above board business or whatever, because what right does he have to expect Evan to just drop everything to help him when he’s not paying him? He should have some kind of… retainer, that’s a thing, right?

 

Connor googles how that all works and gets completely tied in knots and none of it makes any sense and by the time he’s realised that he’s completely confused the sun is rising.

 

He has a cool shower because it’s way too fucking hot and then tries to catch a few hours of sleep before opening the store.

 

It doesn’t really work.

* * *

Evan walked out of his office on a Wednesday to discover it was absolutely sweltering, even at eight o’clock at night. “Fuck,” he said, blinking in surprise. He felt like he had been slapped in the face with humidity.

“Tell me about it,” Mariah said beside him, pulling her hair up and stripping off her blazer. Thinking she was onto something, Evan pulled off his jacket and loosened his tie. “It’s like a sauna out here.”

“Why do I live in this city again?” Evan said, rolling his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”

“Because you were hoping to become steamed broccoli?”

“Apparently,” Evan said. He and Mariah lived in the same neighborhood, so on the rare occasion they left at the same time, they took the subway together.

“Doing anything tonight?”

“Cranking my AC?”

Mariah giggled. “Don’t let Asher hear that.”

Asher had announced that he was going to stop using electricity outside of work hours during a staff meeting that week, as if he was trying to one-up everyone with his commitment to saving the environment.

“Please, this will last as long as when he was a freegan,” Evan said. “All it took was one nasty look from Charles about his dumpster shoes and it was all over.” They descended the stairs into the subway station, the air growing hotter and thicker, this time with a lingering smell of body odor and urine.

“I still can’t believe they invited everyone to their wedding,” Mariah said, swiping her Metrocard.

Evan swiped his and followed. “After Charles proposed at the Christmas party, nothing surprises me anymore.”

“God, don’t say Christmas. I could kill for a snowflake right now.” They got on their train, not crowded because rush hour had ended ages ago, and Mariah snapped a picture of her sweaty face with Evan grimacing in the background and uploaded it on instagram, captioning it, _“Yeehaw, another sweaty subway ride with my best work bud! #CuteButSweaty #SavingTheWorld”_

Evan walked Mariah to her apartment building since it was closer to the subway stop, then headed back to his where (thank god) Mattie and Alex had switched the air conditioner on with a note for Evan saying that they hoped he wouldn’t melt. “Drink plenty of fluids, young man!” Mattie had added to the end of the note.

Evan pulled his phone from his pocket and texted Connor, “ _God I hate summer. It’s a billion degrees outside.”_

Connor responded, “ _HOT HOT HOT!”_

Evan smiled and called Connor, who picked up on the second ring. “Oh my god I am legit sweating my balls off right now,” Connor said instead of hello.

“Tell me about it,” Evan said, stripping out of his work clothes. “I think I might have honestly started to melt.”

Connor laughing, singing, the chorus from “I Melt With You.”

“What are you up to?” Evan asked.

“I was going to turn into a metallic puddle,” Connor said.

“Very Secret World of Alex Mack of you.”

“I love the 90s,” Connor laughed. “What are you up to?”

“Just got home, so I am taking off my work clothes and then taking a shower.”

“Did you call me just to tell me you were getting naked?”

“Maybe,” Evan said. “Want to come over and take advantage of air conditioning you don’t have to pay for?” Evan asked after a moment.

“Uh, fuck yes.”

“Great.”

Connor arrived about ten minutes later, just as Evan was coming out of the shower. Evan didn’t bother to get dressed, knowing it would probably end up being a wasted effort because when Connor came over, there was a ninety percent chance Evan would end up naked. He pulled the door open when Connor knocked, still in just a towel, and Connor’s eyebrows rose, a cocky smile overtaking his face. “Is this an invitation?”

“If you want it to be?”

Connor lunged forward, kissing Evan hard, and practically dragging him to Evan’s room. Once inside Evan’s room, Connor kicked the door closed. Then his hands went around Evan, pulling him closer, pulling him in tight, forcing their bodies together. His hands traveled from Evan’s hips to his back, to his shoulders. Evan grabbed at Connor’s shoulders, at his ass, hungry for contact, for skin, for warmth.

They broke apart, breathing heavily.

“Jesus,” Connor panted, pulling the towel from away Evan’s waist.

“D’you ever think it’s weird...” Evan started, but then he trailed off, nipping lightly at Connor’s earlobe, which caused Connor to hiss, “...that so many people call out another man’s name in bed?”

Connor stilled against him, staring at Evan with a bemused look on his face.

“Not important,” Evan said. He reached up, pulling Connor’s face towards his, kissing him again harder.

Connor smiled as they broke apart again, a mischievous smile. He sat up for a moment and Evan helped to pull off Connor’s t-shirt. With a small amount of effort, he managed to push Connor onto his back and climbed on top of him. Evan’s hands busied themselves with undoing Connor’s belt, and then he stopped, breathless. “I’m gonna suck you off,” he said, matter of factly, pulling on Connor’s belt loops, pulling him further down the bed. “If that’s alright with you...?”

Connor looked at Evan with raised eyebrows. “Uh. Yes. Please.”

“Great,” Evan replied, distractedly, eyes focused on the outline of Connor’s erection inside his jeans. Evan started to needily place hot kisses on Connor’s stomach, liking the way that Connor twitched beneath him, groaning.

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” Evan said, smiling, triumphant, and undoing the fly of Connor’s jeans. Connor lifted his hips a little, and Evan pulled Connor’s jeans down his legs. Evan’s hand cupped Connor’s cock through his boxers, and then he pulled the boxers off as well. “You good?”

“Great,” Connor mumbled, distractedly, pulling Evan in for a kiss. Evan kissed him hard, his hand wrapping around Connor’s erection, and Connor cursed against Evan’s mouth. Evan pulled away,  took a second to swallow hard, and travel below Connor’s waist. Evan looked up to gauge Connor’s reaction as he placed a light kiss as the crown of Connor’s cock. Connor’s hips bucked beneath him, raspy sound escaping his throat. Evan grinned, doing it again, only wetter this time, and again softer and and again, opening his mouth more to run his tongue across the tip.

“Oh my god,” Connor moaned, as Evan swirled his tongue around the tip and then sucked it greedily, taking Connor’s length into his mouth. He caught Connor’s eye for a moment then, enjoying the intensity of the want that seemed to crackle in Connor’s eyes before they rolled back and he threw his head back on the bed, “Fuck fuck... fuck, Evan.” Evan, refusing to be distracted, licked the underside of Connor’s dick hungrily, dragging his tongue up over the tip, licking the slit there with single minded enthusiasm. Connor moaned loudly, and Evan pulled away suddenly, lips sliding off of Connor’s cock with a slick, wet pop.

“You okay?”

“Holy shit,” Connor said.

Evan was about to dive back down, continue blowing him, but Connor pulled him back up.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Now?” Evan said, because he was in the middle of a blow job and he was pretty good at blowing Connor.

“I wouldn’t ask now if it wasn’t important,” Connor said, voice hoarse.

So Evan sat up, stilled, swallowed hard, preparing to listen and answer attentively. Connor laughed at him. “You look like you’re concentrating very hard.”

“You’ve very distracting,” Evan said.

Connor smirked at him, pulling Evan in for a dirty kiss. And then he leaned in, his mouth very close to Evan’s ear, and Evan shivered as Connor’s hot breath traveled across his skin, “May I fuck you?”

Evan lost his breath for a second.

“Please?” Connor went on.

“So polite,” Evan said, his voice coming out rough.

Connor fixed him with a look. “Evan. I’m serious. I want to fuck you. Like… I really, really want to fuck you. Is that okay?”

Evan swallowed. He could tell Connor was watching him, his eyes were dark, pupils blown. He felt like he might catch fire, that his blood might actually boil.

“Yes,” Evan said breathlessly.

“You’re sure? Because normally… I mean, you don’t-”

Evan nodded once, then again, maybe reassuring himself a little, feeling a little overwhelmed by the pure lust on Connor’s face. He nodded again. Affirmative. He pulled Connor in for a kiss, then said, “Yes. I’m sure. I want you to fuck me.”

“Good,” Connor groaned, pulling Evan’s mouth to his. They kissed, wet open hot, for a long time, when Connor broke it off to leave a trail of bruising kisses down the sides of Evan’s neck.

Evan gasped as Connor wrapped his warm hand around Evan’s erection, stroking him a few times and Evan’s hips bucked helplessly under his touch. “Shit, okay, shit.” Connor pushed himself away, and Evan marveled at Connor’s willpower. “We need lube.”

“Right.”

Connor kissed Evan again, and it was wildly distracting, and Evan pulled on his hair and Connor growled, pulling away. “Lube. We need lube. And condoms.” He broke away from Evan, reaching into the bedside table and gathering the necessary supplies. He rolled back over, capturing Evan’s lips in a desperate, wet kiss.

“How do you want me?” Evan asked, panting, and Connor groaned, reaching down to stroke himself and Evan thought maybe he might pass out because Connor was so fucking hot.

“Want to see you,” Connor muttered, pulling away from another kiss to let his teeth graze Evan’s neck. He sat back on his heels, nudging Evan’s legs apart, pouring a sizeable amount of lube on his fingers. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, nodding, and Connor reached down, pressing his finger against Evan’s hole. The lube was a little cold, and Evan couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping. Connor looked up to catch Evan’s eye. “Fuck,” Evan said, biting his lip.

“Still good?”

Evan nodded, and Connor pressed his finger inside of Evan. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he said, working his finger in now, working Evan open, and Evan groaned. Connor crooked his finger, probing, searching, and Evan whimpered again, whining a little. “Have you ever done this before?” Connor asked, pulling out, and Evan whined louder because the absence was maddening.

“Not in a very long time,” Evan said honestly, because he hadn’t, and he’d never with Connor.

“Can I keep going?”

“Yes. Please.”

Connor smiled. He poured more lube on his fingers, going back to to fingering Evan. Evan groaned, his mind flashing blissfully blank suddenly as Connor’s fingers crooked, the angle… “Fuck, Connor, fuck-”

Connor grinned wickedly, pressing the fingers against Evan’s prostate again and again, and Evan was breathing raggedly, and Connor pressed in another lube slick finger and Evan felt like he was losing his mind, like he was losing grip, and Evan heard Connor say, “You’re so damn hot, Evan, fuck,” and Evan shuddered as Connor’s fingers pushed in further, and he heard himself start to beg, actually beg.

“Please,” Evan whined, desperate, pleading. “Please. I need-”

And Connor nodded, withdrawing his fingers and Evan gasped, and Connor was rolling the condom over his dick, and Evan could barely catch his breath as Connor positioned himself between Evan’s legs. He pressed the tip of his cock against Evan’s hole, but he did not push inside. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Evan said, nodding, eyes falling closed as Connor pushed inside slowly, unable to stop the moan that escaped his lips.  

“Fuck,” Connor swore, and he held still, breathing a few times, like he was collecting himself.

“You… you good?” Evan rasped.

“Yeah,” Connor said, nodding, and he thrust experimentally and Evan jerked beneath him. “You’re really tight, fuck. You good?”

“Yes,” Evan said, whined, and Connor thrust again, shallowly, and Evan felt his eyes roll back and he mumbled, “Don’t be a jerk.”

“Fuck, yeah, okay,” Connor said and he thrust harder that time. Evan moaned beneath him, fingers twisting themselves in the sheets

“Fuck, Evan, you feel so good,” Connor groaned, and Evan tried to arch up into Connor’s movements, and Connor gasped, breathless. “Fuck,” He said to Evan.

“Fuck,” Evan echoed.

Connor smirked, thrusting harder, hand reaching up to grasp one of Evan’s, their fingers lacing together as Connor fucked him harder. Evan’s hand found its way between them, hurriedly stroking himself. “H-how-” he panted, lips brushing against Connor’s swollen mouth, “How have we not done this before?”

Connor slid deep inside Evan and Evan did his best to match each thrust, bucking his hips up to meet them.

“We’ve... clearly, fucking hell,  been idiots,” Connor answered, his brow furrowed.

Evan could hear his blood pounding loudly in his veins, his heart pounding too hard too fast, “I’m close fuck...” He said, his hand fisting his cock and Connor buried himself in Evan and then Evan was coming, suddenly, no warning, he could feel it everywhere, jerking suddenly, and Evan could swear he felt it everywhere from his cock to his toes to his eyelashes, his eyes snapping closed, and it was all so much too much and Connor muttered, “Can I come inside you?” and Evan nodded, and Connor’s hips snapping and kept snapping as he rode out the orgasm, coming coming coming until his hips finally come to a stop.

“Oh... my... god,” Connor said, his forehead resting against Evan’s for a moment.

“Yeah…”

Connor slowly pulled out of Evan and Evan could feel Connor’s arms shaking, and he rolled off of Evan, sighing.

“That was...” Evan managed when he could trust himself to speak.

“Wow,” Connor said. “That was hot.”

“Yeah.”

Evan stayed there, on his back, exhausted for a long moment. Connor threw away the condom, then he flopped back beside Evan, still breathing hard, and Evan desperately wanted to kiss him, to pull Connor close. But he stayed still, his skin cooling, and Connor got up, grabbed Evan’s bathrobe off of the hook by the door and said he would be right back. Evan stayed there, his eyes closed, and tried to catch his breath, tried to stop the shaking in his hands because that was a lot. That was a lot to deal with suddenly.

“Evan?”

“Hm?” Evan said, opening his eyes.

“I’m gonna clean you up, okay?”

“Okay,” Evan said softly, and he felt a warm damp cloth wiping across his stomach and chest and hips.

“You doing okay?” Connor asked, putting the washcloth away. He laid back down on Evan’s bed, and Evan was surprised when Connor rolled to his side and pulled Evan back against his chest.

He thought he ought to protest, to pull away, but he didn’t. Because Connor’s long fingers were tracing patterns on Evan’s shoulder and he was talking to him softly, asking if Evan was alright, if he needed anything. “You seem kinda out of it, you okay?”

“‘M okay,” Evan said.

“You looked really hot like that, Evan,” Connor said, his hands brushing Evan’s hair off of his face. “Really hot.”

Evan smiled, almost bashful. “You weren’t so bad yourself,” he mumbled, and he wanted to turn over and he wanted to kiss Connor but that would break the spell, ruin the moment, so he stayed put and Connor’s fingers kept touching him, ghosting lightly over his hip and chest and stomach until Evan stopped shaking, started breathing normally again.

Connor pulled away. “Nice job on the sex,” he said, offering Evan a high five, which he gave him. Connor stooped to pick up his clothes and started putting them on, and Evan pulled out a t-shirt and shorts from his drawer to put on.

“I can’t believe you wore jeans in this heat,” Evan said, laughing.

“My legs are not made for shorts,” Connor said, shrugging.

Evan thought Connor’s legs looked great in anything, but he kept that to himself. “Let me guess: you were an indoorsy kid?”

“Absolutely,” Connor said, pulling his t-shirt on over his head. “I hated summer. My parents were always trying to make me go outside and play. And I’d normally just… go read.”

Fuck that was cute Evan could hardly stand it. Whenever Connor said stuff like that, Evan felt as if he had been deprived of an entire life with Connor. They grew up less than two miles from each other, and never even spoke until high school. Didn’t find each other properly until they were well into their twenties. Evan thought that was tragically unfair, to both of them. Maybe they wouldn’t have been such lonely kids…

“You hated summer?” Evan said. “That’s fucking depressing.”

“It’s hot and I just wanted to stay inside and read,” Connor said, rolling his eyes.

“No wonder you’re so pale,” Evan said, smiling. “I was a day camp kid.”

“Yeah?”

“Cheaper than daycare,” Evan said shrugging. “But then I turned eleven and totally freaked out at the idea of sleepaway camp, so after that I just stayed home by myself. I rode my bike around a lot, but there weren’t a ton of other kids in the neighborhood and I was… You know. Dorky and whatever. I hung out a lot with Jared because my mom didn’t want me spending all my time alone.”

“Ugh, Jared.”

“I know,” Evan said, shrugging. “He really grew up to be a dick.”

“Still cannot believe you two went out.”

“For like. A month. At the end of high school.” Evan rolled his eyes. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“How?”

Evan rolled his eyes and said he was off his meds at the time.

“I bet you were cute.”

“In high school? We knew each other. You know what I looked like.”

“I meant as a little kid,” Connor said.

Evan laughed. “Yeah, the bowl cut I rocked while I carried around my inhaler definitely worked for me.”

“And you liked summer?” Connor countered, eyebrows up.

“Yeah, I guess when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound much less depressing than wanting to read.” Evan took a seat at the foot of the bed. “It was a big deal though, because on Fridays I’d save up my allowance and go buy a bomb pop from the gas station down the road.”

“Oh damn, I love bomb pops.” Connor was grinning. “I could totally go for one of those.”

“Do you think the bodega across the street sells them?” Evan asked. Connor shrugged. “Okay, let’s do it. A popsicle sounds awesome.”

“You really want to go outside?” Connor asked, laughing. “It’s like ninety degrees… and it’s nighttime.”

“Come on, we’re not lonely kids anymore. We’re going out and buying some goddamn popsicles.”

Connor laughed at Evan, but nonetheless put on his shoes and followed him out of the apartment, out of the building, and across the street in not-quite-darkness of a summer night in the city. The air was still heavy and humid, but something about this mission for a bomb pop with Connor at his side made it way more bearable.

They arrived at the bodega, heading immediately back to the small freezer they usually kept ice cream and novelties in, only to discover, with a groan of disappointment, that there were no bomb pops to be found. Just a few sad and freezer burned looking Spider-Man pops with eyes that looked off in two different directions.

“Well, this blows,” Evan said to the mostly empty freezer.

“Man, you really got me hyped up for these popsicles too,” Connor joked.

“Oh we’re finding some popsicles now,” Evan said, tugging Connor by the arm and pulling him out of the bodega, back out into the warm night air. They walked in the opposite direction, toward a pharmacy that they had once visited in the middle of winter because somehow they had run out of condoms and lube but not stamina. “This is an important matter, Connor.”

When they stepped inside of the pharmacy, the air conditioning was so cold, so suddenly, that Evan shivered involuntarily. They walked toward the back of the store, where they could see aisles of freezers, and began searching. After a few minutes, Connor let out a triumphant “YES!” and Evan hurried over to see him grabbing two of the popsicles from the freezer.

They made their way to the counter, where they got an eyeful from the cashier who apparently thought it was odd for two twenty eight year old men to be buying popsicles at 10:00pm on a Wednesday. This was the sort of thing that normally switched on Evan’s anxiety, caused him to fidget and apologize, but this time he didn’t give a single fuck. Because Connor was laughing and trying to pull his wallet out and Evan had to be faster, had to fork over a twenty dollar bill because there was no way he was letting Connor pay for these silly popsicles, no fucking way.

“Dude,” Connor said. Complained.

“Shut up.”

“But I-”

“You’re about to have a mortgage,” Evan said reasonably. “And I make more than enough to buy some damn popsicles.”

Connor frowned slightly, eyebrows knitting together and fuck it was very difficult not to try to smooth that down, not to want to poke Connor in his side to make him laugh, not to fix it because Evan was always, always trying to fix things.

But he let Connor have his frown and they stepped back out into the warm night air, opening their bomb pops and depositing the wrappers in a trash can.

Connor bit the tip off of his popsicle and Evan gasped in fake pain. Naturally Connor proceeded deep throat the fucking popsicle while maintaining eye contact with Evan and that was stupidly hot and Evan sort of swallowed audibly and Connor laughed and he loved it when Connor laughed so he laughed too.

Fuck.

“So speaking of you making enough to buy popsicles,” Connor said casually. “How much are you making these days anyway? Like what’s your hourly rate?”

Evan sort of laughed awkwardly because he had grown up poor where your salary was a closely guarded secret, where the fact that he was making upper middle class kind of money now sort of embarrassed him. He felt weird about Connor asking, but he couldn’t say precisely why. “Enough that I actually have a savings account now,” Evan said, shrugging, hurrying to catch a drip of melting popsicle with his tongue. “Why?”

“Just, no reason,” Connor said, putting the bomb pop into his mouth again. “Which color’s your favorite?”

“Definitely blue,” Evan said.

“Mine too,” Connor said, smiling harder now. They kept walking and sucking on their popsicles and making immature dick jokes and the blue section ended up staining Connor’s lips and teeth bluish and Evan really, really wanted to kiss him.

Right there, on the street, rules be damned.

Shit.

He had been good about this for a long time now, not letting it get into his head too much, trying not to think about it.

But suddenly the fact that he want to kiss Connor, that he had weird dreams where Evan got to hold onto him, hold his hand, the fact that he wasn’t able to shake of this idiotic, life ruining crush had bubbled up to the surface and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

So when Connor did kiss him, back in his apartment, lips blue and still cold, Evan gently said he didn’t think he could go another round, which was a lie, but he gave Connor a blow job instead because it felt weird to let Connor do anything to him while Evan was sitting there thinking about how he was in love with him.

 

* * *

June keeps marching on, relentlessly hot and sticky, and Connor throws himself into work. Maureen’s a welcome addition, that he definitely admits, but he still needs to train her, and he doesn’t think she’s ready to take on a Sunday shift alone yet, so he’s working the shift with her to get her up to speed until he thinks she’s got the hang of it.

 

He likes her, though. She’s smart and she’s proactive and she knows her stuff when it comes to books, and on the rare occasion that they’re not ridiculously busy, they have some great conversations and bond over their mutual love of YA literature.

 

They are ridiculously busy though, and Connor suspects it’s got less to do with people all of a sudden being desperate to buy books and has more to do with the fact that there’s air conditioning in the store. Still, it’s helping sales, and there are plenty of teenagers in, given that it’s summer vacation, so Connor starts organizing to have some YA authors in to read some of their work and answer questions, after talking with some of the kids about what they’ve been reading and authors they’d like to see.

 

Most of the authors he talks to say they’d prefer a Saturday session, and there’s no way Leslie should be expected to run the store alone when there’s an author event going on, so…

 

There go Connor’s weekends.

 

That means less time with Evan, which sucks, because Evan always makes him feel calmer, like he’s got this, like everything’s okay, but if he’s going to avoid declaring bankruptcy before he’s thirty, he needs to put in the work.

 

Connor still texts Evan every day and they meet up after work at least once a week, so it’s not like he never sees him. It’s just not quite as often. He should probably be less clingy with Evan, anyway, especially considering that he’s given Connor at least $70,000 of free legal help. At least. Connor tried to get an idea of Evan’s hourly rate, but he doesn’t know for sure. It’s probably a wild underestimation.

 

So maybe it looks like he’ll be working three weeks straight without any days off. He can handle it.

 

If he’s serious about not fucking this whole thing up, he’ll have to.

* * *

 

Evan got a text from Zoe in the middle of the day on a Monday asking Evan if he wanted to get lunch that week. He was a bit surprised. He liked Zoe, sure, and they’d developed a sort of friendly relationship since since last August when Zoe had witnessed the worst dinner Evan had ever sat through. After Connor’s holiday party when she distracted Leslie so Leslie would stop trying to make out with Evan, Evan would have definitely consider them friends. But he and Zoe hadn’t really spent a lot of time together without Connor present. But Evan thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad so he said he was free for lunch on Wednesday. 

She showed up at his office about five minutes before Evan was due to meet her, smiling sort of bemusedly. “Connor said you might not actually leave your desk unless I came to pick you up.”

“Sorry,” Evan said sheepishly. “I meant to be on my way by now.”

Zoe shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, I don’t have another client until two o’clock. Want to get out here?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, standing up. “Where were you thinking?”

“There’s this deli that I love a couple of blocks over,” Zoe said, and he knew the place and headed out with her. 

They got on the elevator with Charles, who eyed Zoe a little and then slid his eyes over to Evan. “Hey,” He said. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, this is my friend Zoe,” Evan said. “Zoe, this is Charles, he’s another associate at the firm.”

“Nice to meet you,” Zoe said politely. 

They got off on the first floor, and Zoe said she needed to throw out her gum so Charles pulled Evan to the side slightly and said, “What happened to your tall guy? The one who brought you a cactus? Don’t tell me you broke up.”

Evan blinked a few times. “No we… we’re not together, he’s just my friend. Zoe’s his sister.”

“Oh,” Charles said, looking a bit crestfallen. “Really? Just  _ friends _ ? But he brought you a cactus!”

Zoe appeared at Evan’s elbow just as Charles said that. “Okay we’re heading out, bye Charles,” Evan said pointedly and Zoe started to giggle as they walked out the building. “Sorry,” He said to Zoe. 

“Don’t worry about it,” She said with a slight smile. “It wasn’t as bad a very single lesbian Connor knows wanting to get with me.”

“Hey, Leslie’s bi,” Evan said smiling. 

“Fine. Every queer woman then,” She said, smiling wider. “So Connor brings you lunch huh?”

“Just, sometimes,” Evan said awkwardly. “I dunno, he’s the one doing it, I didn’t like ask him to.”

“I just think it’s sweet,” Zoe said with a shrug. “He never really had friends growing up. And even in college it was more like he had some loose acquaintances. I’m just happy you two are friends.”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “So am I.”

They walked to the deli and grabbed sandwiches and seats outside in the sunshine. Zoe asked about work, about Evan’s cases, and he in turn asked after her job, how she liked her coworker, if her clients were doing well. She also mentioned, her voice deliberately casual, that her own therapist was pleased with the progress Zoe herself had made with her relationship with Connor and Evan felt oddly honored being included in that information. 

“That’s really great.”

“It’s like a weird thing to be proud of, you know? Like it sort of feels like I didn’t really do anything but show up at a party pissed off and suddenly things were better but… I’ll take it.”

“Yeah, Connor said you and your boyfriend broke up like on his birthday, basically?”

“We did. He proposed after like, asking Larry for permission to marry me, it was a nightmare,” Zoe said dismissively. “Which is sort of why I wanted to get lunch…?”

“If this is a proposal, I’ll admit little bit disappointed. I thought they would be flowers,” Evan quipped and Zoe smiled. 

“No. Ugh, okay, my roommate is sort of on me to start dating again. Like the word spinster has been thrown around a few times, and last night I spent four hours researching cat adoption so. Clearly my roommate I am reaching levels of sad previously unseen, so I desperately need to go out with another human being to get her off of my back.”

“I… You shouldn’t date someone just because your roommate wants you to,” Evan said, a strange feeling of deja vu washing over him. 

“Well, I mean obviously I know that. I’m not Connor,” Zoe said and her gaze felt extremely pointed.“Speaking of my brother,” Zoe went on. “Did you really make  _ him  _ go on a date?”

“I did not  _ make  _ him do anything,” Evan said defensively. “I just… suggested he try it because he’d never really done it before.”

“Uh huh,” Zoe said, her eyebrows up. “And it went  _ so _ well.”

“I had no idea he would hate it so much!” Evan said, laughing almost. “And I felt terrible he only did it because I suggested it.”

“Sure,” Zoe said, smiling. “And I’m sure it had nothing to do with convincing him that he already has a very attractive and available option right in front of him.”

“What?” Evan sputtered, confused. “That’s not… I wasn’t doing that.”

“Seriously?” Zoe said, eyebrows up. “I would have.”

“It’s not like that with us,” Evan said, his face very very warm now. “We’re… he’s my best friend.”   


“Who you have sex with,” Zoe said. “And spend all of your time with. And help move. And give free legal advice to.”

“I care about Connor a lot,” Evan said. 

“Oh I know,” Zoe said, rolling her eyes. “Anyway I think she might right that it’s time to get back on the horse. The horse being the genitals of someone cute. So that’s where you come in.”

“I don’t follow,” Evan said. 

“Tinder is the worst thing because you cannot say you are a therapist on Tinder and… Basically, is there any chance you know anyone? That I could date?”

“You want me to set you up?” Evan asked, incredulously. 

“Hear me out,” Zoe said. “You’re bi, I’m bi.”

Evan thought he might genuinely die in that moment. If his high school self could see this conversation he would beat Adult Evan around the head with the skeleton of his plaster cast. “Wh-what?”

“I just mean. You get the struggle of the sex crazed threesome wanters and the fetishizing and the shaming, so I’m guessing you understand why going online is a total nightmare.”

Evan nodded, his heart still beating way too fast. “You have a good point.”

“Plus, my office mates are off limits and my clients are children so my exposure to fellow adults who might know someone I can go out with is limited to my roommate, you and Connor.”

“Right,” Evan said, still flabbergasted.

“And my roommate’s an idiot, so that just leaves you and Connor.”

“I mean. You could go out with one of Connor’s lesbians? I’m sure Andi…”

“Stop. Do not say another word about that,” Zoe said, shaking her head. “As far as I am concerned, that mortifying ordeal never happened.”

“Or Leslie? She’s… She’s bi?”

“Yeah, and last I checked she had a thing for  _ you _ .”

Evan felt his face get even hotter. “I uh. I don’t think she does anymore. But she is cute.”

“So why not ask her out?” Zoe said, and it felt like a challenge. 

“I… Because. I don’t want to?” Evan said lamely. “You should though. I know she thinks you’re attractive. She blushes every time you come up in conversation.”

“Yeah, see, I cannot do that because if it doesn’t work out then I’ve dated one of Connor’s employees.”

“Fair.” Evan chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “I think that you’re overestimating how many people I know.”   


“How so?”

“I spent all of my time with lawyers or your brother. And unless this is about to get really  _ Flowers in the Attic _ , I feel like you don’t want to date Connor.”   


Zoe looked ill at the suggestion.

“I don’t think you should date a lawyer,” Evan went on. “Because I hear dating means actually seeing people sometimes? And everyone in my firm basically sleeps in their office.”

“That’s fine,” Zoe said. “I have no work life balance anyway, and I’m googling cats. You gotta help me.”

“I really don’t think this is wise,” Evan said. 

“Why? Am I not cute enough for all of the hot lawyers you know?”

“No,” Evan laughed. “Oh my god, no, Zoe that is not what I meant at all. It’s just. I just am so awkward around people how the hell could I set you up? Hi, this is Zoe, she’s cute and single, also please still make conversation with me at the water cooler after this?”

Zoe rolled eyes. “So that crush on me in high school really was only skin deep, eh?”

Evan felt like his face was the proper temperature to bake cookies at. “What? H-how did you..?” He imagined Connor telling her, telling her about the letter, sharing it and laughing and -

“Girls always know,” Zoe said. “Plus you hung around a jazz band concert for like ten minutes by yourself when I was a sophomore? Nobody liked jazz band enough to fangirl, Evan. Not even kids  _ in  _ jazz band.”

Evan laughed. “Okay, fair point. I was obvious as hell.”

“You were cute though,” Zoe said. “And you are single now…” She was smiling kind of wolfishly and either 1. She was serious and wanted to go out with him or 2. She knew he had a thing for Connor and was purposely doing this to make him embarrassed which, truth be told, was really fucking working. “But I don’t date people who have slept with my brother, so there goes that option.”

Evan was going to die. He really was. “Zoe I’m flattered but-”

“But you’re in love with my brother,” She said.

“I. What? That’s not… We’re friends,” Evan said helplessly. “Connor, he… it’s not like that with us.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Idiots. Both of you.”

“No, s-seriously, Connor’s my best friend and… that’s it. That’s all… that’s all he wants.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“My friend Mariah at work is bi and single -” Evan rushed to say, as if maybe he could distract her by throwing a cute viable human to date.    


“Is she the cute Asian one?”

“Yes,” Evan said carefully, trying to slow his heart rate by willpower alone. “But she is my work wife so if you are mean to her I will be upset.”

Zoe smiled. “Does your wife-wife know about your work wife?”

Evan blinked cluelessly. “What?”

“Connor.”

“He’s definitely not my  _ wife _ ,” Evan said with a breathless, awkward laugh. “I’m the worried one, so I am definitely the wife.” He realized what he had said and shook his head. “That’s very gender… fucked up whatever, the point is nobody is the wife.”

“I just meant, does Connor know about Mariah?”

“Yeah, they’ve met. Why?”

“Just… maybe he might be jealous, I guess.”

“I… He has no reason to be jealous and also we are just friends,” Evan said quickly, like the faster he said it the quicker he could try to make it true. “Mariah has mentioned thinking Connor is cute before so…” He didn’t say “so she’ll probably like you because you and Connor look alike,” instead opting for, “So her gaydar, bi-fi, whatever isn’t exactly the sharpest?”

Zoe smiled. “I’ll take it honestly. I just need to stop swiping through Tinder and then swiping through Humane Society kittens.”

“I don’t really get cats?” Evan admitted. “Like do they do… do anything?”

Zoe sighed dreamily. “No. They’re just very very cute. They do silly stuff like purr and play with little toys…”

“Maybe you should get a cat,” Evan said smiling. 

“No! I should get laid! I am young and hot and successful,” Zoe protested. “Give me this Mariah’s number.”

“Can I at least talk to her first?”

“Fine, but do it soon. I’m afraid my junk is gonna wither and die.”

Evan laughed a little. “I’m sure that isn’t physically possible.”

“You think that because you’re getting laid,” Zoe said bitterly. “And the fact that you’re sleeping with my brother? Gross. Super gross.”

Evan felt his face get warm. 

When he got back to his office, he passed Zoe’s number on to Mariah. Mariah’s face lit up, and she scrolled through Zoe’s instagram in front of him, saying that she thought Zoe was super adorable. “And she helps kids? Oh my god.”

“I know. She’s great.”

“I’ll totally text her,” Mariah said. Then her eyes went a bit dimmer. “Just as soon as this McKenzie thing is cleared up. Because I want to give her my full attention… if you know what I mean.”

Evan laughed. “Gross.”

“Pfft whatever man, you’re getting yours.”

 

* * *

It’s a Friday night and Connor’s just locked the front door when his phone rings. The caller ID says it’s Andi, so he answers it.

 

“Hey, what’s up?”

 

“Connor!” Andi exclaims, her voice excited. “Are you and Evan coming tonight?”

 

“Coming to what?”

 

“The development, of course,” says Andi, in this matter-of-fact tone like Connor should know exactly what she’s talking about. “The production?”

 

“The what?”

 

“Connor,” says Andi, sounding a little annoyed. “I told you about this. I called you two weeks ago.”

 

Connor blinks. “No you didn’t.”

 

There’s a pause. “Yes, I did,” Andi says, but she sounds less certain. “I’m sure I did, I… hang on.” There’s another pause and the sounds of beeping and then Andi clearing her throat. “Right. Okay. So I thought I’d called you but my call history says otherwise.”

 

“What’s this production thing?” Connor asks, because now of course he’s curious. And it might be nice to go and do something tonight, even if he’s working tomorrow. “And what are you doing in it?”

 

“I built the set,” Andi says cheerfully. “For an off-off-off-off-Broadway development production. It’s an original musical about the concept of time, written entirely in haiku.”

 

Connor tries not to laugh. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“It’s called Time-ku.”

 

“Of course it is.” Connor grins. “Okay, that sounds just batshit enough to be entertaining. What time is it?”

 

“It starts at midnight.”

 

“Text me the details,” Connor says, and then ends the call and promptly calls Evan, who answers immediately.

 

“Hey!” Evan says, and Connor can hear the smile in his voice. “I was just about to text. I just got home, but I thought maybe we could hang out tonight?”

 

“Meet me at Tipsy’s in like half an hour?”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

They end up in a booth in the corner at the bar with their drinks and Connor tells Evan all about Andi’s production. He’d looked it up online and it honestly just looks… completely fucking insane.

 

Evan looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or wince. “Time-ku?”

 

“I’m holding out for ‘so bad it’s good’,” Connor confesses. “It’s on at midnight. Tickets are like $10, want to go?”

 

“What the hell,” says Evan, and he does laugh. “I could probably stand to get more exposure to New York culture.”

 

They spend the next two and a half hours drinking and talking about their days and Connor is well and truly tipsy by the time he orders them both a Lyft to the venue that the show is at. When they get there, they end up having to go down a remarkably steep set of stairs. Evan grabs onto Connor’s arm as they take them carefully, no doubt remembering the many, many times they both ended up falling to their deaths.

 

The room isn’t exactly small but it’s very weirdly shaped, and there are strange looking sculptures all over the walls that have lights in them that look like Andi’s work. Honestly, they’re kind of cool. There’s a giant purple curtain covering what might be a stage and a variety of other things around the room, including a giant stuffed rabbit that definitely seems to be looking right at Connor and an equally huge trash can that genuinely looks like Oscar the Grouch is about to pop out and start complaining.

 

But there is also a bar. Evan turns to Connor and smiles, then leads him to the bar and orders them both rum, and they kind of both stand against the wall because rather than seats, there seem to be a variety of cushions and beanbags.

 

The lights are mostly purples and reds and they cast unusual shadows, but Connor thinks that Evan looks nice, his face catching a solitary blue light. He smiles at Connor again and Connor finds himself thinking that he’d probably go anywhere as long as Evan came with him.

 

“So how weird do you think this is going to be?” Evan asks quietly.

 

“I’m hoping it’s completely batshit,” Connor confesses. “I’ve seen some really fucking weird theatre in this city, you have no idea.”

 

“I have… not,” Evan admits. “I don’t really get the chance to see a lot of theatre. I keep thinking that I should, like, go see something in Broadway, but I never do.”

 

“I’ve mostly seen low-budget stuff,” Connor says, thinking back to the early days of living with Andi where she just constantly dragged him along to things. “Stuff that probably seemed like a great idea after a bottle and a half of tequila.”

 

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen?” Evan asks.

 

Connor tries to think. “I mean, it’s hard to pinpoint just one. Andi dragged me along to lot of weird shit. There was this thing where there was a giant box and you, like, sit in the box along with maybe half a dozen other people and there’s this woman shaving off all her body hair and staring at you. I also saw a performance The Vagina Monologues with, like, puppets? Full on vulva puppets? That was an experience.”

 

“You do seem to see a lot of pussy for a gay man,” Evan comments with a grin.

 

Connor smirks. “Must seem like a waste.”

 

Evan looks like he’s about to reply when his expression shifts and he’s looking at something across the room. Connor follows his glance and feels his cheeks turn bright red when he realizes that Evan’s spotted Parker, the guy Andi set Connor up with in March.

 

“Isn’t that Parker?” Evan says quietly to Connor. “The guy you had a date with a few months back?”

 

Connor’s a little surprised that Evan actually recognizes this guy from having seen a photo of him once, but nods. “Yeah, I think so.” He grabs Evan’s arm and drags him over to the bar so they’re out of Andi and Parker’s line of sight. He buys them both another drink, and they both stand there at the bar for a while. “Shit.”

 

“You said you just… didn’t answer his texts?” Evan says after a moment, frowning.

 

“Yeah,” Connor admits. “It was a dick move of me.”

 

Evan’s clearly still got Parker in his line of sight, but seeing as Parker and Evan never met, Connor suspects it’s fine. “He’s clearly moved on,” says Evan, his voice deliberately casual. “There’s this guy with his arm around his waist.”

 

“Good for him,” says Connor, and he means it. Parker’s nice, and deserves someone nice.

 

Evan looks back at Connor and frowns. “I’m sorry.”

 

Connor blinks. “Why? I’m the one who ghosted him.”

 

“Still,” Evan says, looking more than a little uncomfortable. “It has to suck, seeing him with someone else.”

 

“Not really,” Connor says, frowning a little. “Honestly, I’m just glad he’s happy. He’s a nice guy, he deserved better than me.”

 

Evan’s face falls and he’s looking at Connor with this slightly pained expression. “Don’t say that.”

 

“Why not?” Connor says, rolling his eyes and having a sip of his rum. “We both know I’m an asshole.”

 

“That’s bullshit,” Evan says firmly, and grabs Connor’s hand and squeezes it firmly, and Connor feels this weird shock go through him, which is a little like being electrocuted but nowhere near as painful. “You’re amazing.”

 

They stand there for a moment. Evan bites his lip and Connor really, really wants to kiss him, but that’s not something they do outside of sex, so Connor brushes it aside. Then Evan looks back in the direction of Parker and his eyes widen. “Okay they’re headed to the bar,” he says.

 

“Shit,” says Connor. “I have to hide.”

 

“Behind the giant trash can,” says Evan immediately, and takes his hand and then they’re doing this weird half walk, half jog thing, rushing toward the weird as hell giant trash can and not stopping until they’re safely behind it, all but pressed against the wall.

 

Connor can’t help himself, he starts giggling, as quietly as he can. “Oh my god.”

 

Evan’s right next to him, so close that Connor can smell his shampoo, and he smells really good. He looks good, too, in jeans and a maroon button down shirt, which has the top button undone but isn’t unbuttoned enough to show his collarbone, which Connor has always thought is just… really fucking sexy.

 

Connor imagines unbuttoning Evan’s shirt, pressing kisses to his collarbone, then reaching down to stroke him through his jeans and…

 

“They shouldn’t be too long,” Evan says, the words coming out in a rush. “The show’s going to start in like, ten minutes, so…”

 

“Sure,” says Connor, who’s staring at Evan’s lips. He knows he shouldn’t, but he pulls Evan close to him and kisses him hard and Evan melts into it, reaching up to tangle his hand in Connor’s hair, and Connor presses Evan up against the wall and Evan’s so warm against him and Connor goes to unbutton Evan’s shirt so he can get to that collarbone when there’s a firm tap on his shoulder.

 

“There you are,” says Andi, who acts like she didn’t just interrupt them practically dry-humping behind a giant trash can. “Come on, we need to get you guys a good seat.”

 

“We can just sit at the back,” Connor says, going for casual because he can tell how fucking embarrassed Evan is at being interrupted. “We’ll be fine.”

 

“You saw Parker, didn’t you?” Andi says, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, Connor, I’m never setting you up with anyone again.” Then she waves at Evan and winks. “Although from the looks of things, you don’t need me to. Did you two crazy kids finally decide to stop kidding yourselves?”

 

“Still just friends,” Connor says, trying not to roll his eyes.

 

“I should go to the bathroom before the show,” Evan says, then pushes past both of them and heads across the room like a shot.

 

“Sex behind the giant trash can,” says Andi with a smirk once Evan’s gone. “Classy, Connor.”

 

“Pretty sure it’s not a real trash can.”

 

“Oh, it’s definitely not,” Andi confirms. “I made it. I could tell you what it symbolizes, but you’ll have to wait until the show is over.”

 

“So on the scale of ‘ _As You Like It_ on stilts in Portugese’ to ‘ _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_ Burlesque Review’, how weird is this going to be?” Connor asks Andi, letting her lead him out from behind the giant trash can and toward some bean bags at the back. He notes that Parker and whoever he was with are nowhere to be seen.

 

Andi considers. “It’s more like that time we saw the beatboxing drag queen make an imaginary cake,” she says after a moment. “By which I mean it’s nothing like that at all.”

 

“Right,” says Connor, and takes a seat, saving one for Evan, who comes in just before the show starts and sits next to him, smiling a little.

 

He still smells really, really good.

* * *

“Although from the looks of things, you don’t need me to. Did you two crazy kids finally decide to stop kidding yourselves?” Andi said, and she was smiling and winking and Evan felt his face get hot.

“Still just friends,” Connor said and Evan could tell he wanted to roll his eyes.

He had to just… take a minute.

Because this was going to give him a heart attack. First Connor was hiding from Perfect Canadian Parker and the dude Parker was with, then he was making out with Evan behind a giant trash can, and now he was insisting to Andi that they were just friends and even though those words had been Evan’s words for the last year or so it kind of stung to hear him say it to Andi seconds after he’d stopped kissing Evan so he needed a minute.

He walked toward the bathrooms and discovered that there were no gender markers, just one with a picture of a clock at twelve o’clock and the other had a clock set to six thirty and gender was fake anyway so he just picked one, figuring if he was in there he might as well pee.

The bathroom he picked had large number of stalls and he chose one and peed and then stepped out to wash his hands only to discover Perfect Parker washing his hands three sinks down. He was frowning and then looked up and caught Evan looking at him and Evan panicked and he had been drinking so he very awkwardly said, “Hello.”

“Hi?” Parker replied, giving Evan a tight smile. “Do I know you?”

“Nope,” Evan said, internally kicking himself. “I’m just. Drunk.”

Parker’s awkward smile was replaced by a look of genuine concern. “Oh. Do you need help? Were you here with someone?”

“I’m okay. I know Andi? She did the set… I think. I know she did a big trash can?”

Parker nodded. “I know Andi. She’s great. Super caring and amazing. Not an awesome judge of character though?”

“Oh?” Evan heard himself saying, stupidly.

“Yeah,” Parker said with a shrug. “She set me up with her old roommate once and we had an awesome date and then he totally ghosted?”

“Oh, shit,” Evan said. “That sucks.”

“I mean, I should have seen it coming,” Parker said. “He spent the whole date talking about his lawyer friend who was going to save the world.”

Evan felt something twisting hard in his guts. “Yikes, that’s awkward.”

“Tell me about it.” Parker shrugged. “It’s all good though, I actually ended up meeting my boyfriend while I was moping around about some guy with a bookstore.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, he’s great. His name is Toby.”

“That’s awesome,” Evan said and this was weird, this was super fucking weird. “I should go before the show starts…”

“Yeah, I think Toby and I are going to try to escape before then. I saw someone backstage dressed as Stephen Hawking.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yeah. Good luck,” Parker said, clapping Evan on the shoulder and heading out. Evan took a moment to stare into the mirror, trying to process how annoyingly decent Parker had been, how he had said Connor had talked about Evan their whole date…

Evan shook himself. On his way back from the bathroom, he got a drink for himself and Connor and one for Andi, and slid into the seat beside Connor. “Here,” He said, passing a drink to Connor and one to Andi, “I ran into someone in the bathroom who said something about Stephen Hawking?”

“Oh no,” Connor said, taking a large swallow of his drink. The lights in the house went down and someone walked on stage, speaking earnestly, with a clock painted onto his bare chest. “Only time will tell /It’s just a matter of time/ Just a waste of time.”

The people in the audience began to snap in appreciation.

Andi finished her drink in one go. “I’m still not totally sure what the trashcan was for…”

“Waste of time?” Evan suggested quietly.

Connor stifled a laugh beside him. His thigh was pressed against Evan’s, and Evan suddenly remembered that when Andi found them Connor had shoved him behind the big trashcan and started to kiss him and he wondered if they could distract Andi and go find somewhere to resume that plan of action. Evan noticed that Connor seemed to be absently picking at a thread that was sticking out of the seam of Evan’s jeans and it was wildly distracting, keeping Evan from focusing on the man in tap shoes onstage, rapping about Einstein’s theory of relativity.

Evan tried to adjust his posture so that the fact that Connor was making him incredibly hard couldn’t be spotted from the lighting booth. Andi, meanwhile, seemed to have had enough of the show, because she kissed Connor on the cheek and not so quietly announced that she was off to go fuck the lighting designer. Connor was laughing silently beside Evan, his sides shaking and his hand pressed over his mouth to stifle the noise.

“Stop it,” Evan said softly, leaning close to Connor’s ear and then Connor laughed even harder, a strange stifled squeak escaping his lips and then Evan was giggling too, looking Connor directly in the eye with his own hand over his mouth as they tried so hard not to disturb the other patrons while the tap dancer took his bow and someone dressed as Stephen Hawking took the stage and began to break dance.

“Stop laughing,” Evan begging as Connor’s eyes filled with tears of mirth, “If you don’t stop I’m gonna start and we’ll get kicked out-”

“SHH!” A man in a beret beside Evan said, irritated while Stephen Hawking’s robotic voice carried on about black holes as the actor spun on his head.

“Be quiet be quiet be quiet,” Connor giggled.

“Please, you are being _very_ rude!” Beret Man said.

“I’m so sorry,” Evan took a shaky breath, his hand still over his mouth, and managed to keep quiet though Connor was still shaking with laughter beside him, barely managing to keep it quiet. Because Evan was a little bit drunk and extremely stupid, he grabbed Connor by the collar and pulled him in for a kiss and Connor’s giggles faded quickly as he focused on kissing Evan, opening his mouth, letting Evan’s tongue explore it and Evan kissed him until he was sure Connor could be quiet and then broke away, grinning stupidly.

“Tease,” Connor said quietly.

“Oh I’ll put out later. Watch the show.”

Connor looked between the stage, where a woman with her breasts out and her skin painted silver was shouting “TIME IS AN ILLUSION, YES, ILLUSION IS TIME,” and then back at Evan and Evan slapped a hand over Connor’s mouth before he started laughing again, saying, quietly, “Behave.”

“Yes sir,” Connor mumbled around Evan’s hand and Evan had to close his eyes because this was too much, too absurd, he really really really needed not to be thinking about how turned on he was while Connor was giggling against his hand while he was desperately trying to shut Connor up and then, at the worst possible moment, the spotlight wildly swung from one side of the stage to the other and Evan and Connor both looked up toward the light booth where Evan could see Andi’s bright red hair in the small window.

“Oh my god,” Connor wheezed.

“We gotta go,” Evan said quietly, grabbing Connor’s wrist as the house lights went up for the intermission. “We have to leave before Beret Guy kills us.”

“Oh man that would be such a disappointing way to go too,” Connor said, still laughing helplessly. “I’d much rather die on the fucking stairs.”

“Same,” Evan said and he was still laughing, his sides hurt from laughing but he couldn’t make it stop, he was just so amused by all of the weird shit that had happened tonight.

“So,” Connor said, his voice suddenly serious. “I heard you say you put out?”

Evan shoved him playfully.

“I was just curious about how one would go about booking those services…?” Connor went on, feigning innocence and then Evan was the one dragging him outside of the venue, pushing Connor up against the wall of the building and kissing him roughly. His cheeks were wet from laughing so hard he cried and he was still giggling a little against Evan’s lips which just set him off again, helplessly laughing. Evan pulled away to get his phone out, booking them a Lyft while Connor kissed his neck a few times. They made out a while longer while they waited for the car to arrive, and once they were in the backseat it was impossible for Evan to keep his hands to himself, instead reaching over to run his hand up the inside of Connor’s thigh, stopping just before he reached his crotch and Connor looked over at him warningly but Evan didn’t stop, and the drive to Connor’s apartment took ages absolute ages and Evan could tell from looking at Connor that he was painfully hard by the time they arrived.

“You cannot do that in the back of a cab,” Connor wheezed once their Lyft driver had pulled away. “That’s really fucking mean, oh my god.”

Evan shrugged, all innocent and “oh no sir I’d never feel you up in a stranger’s vehicle” and then Connor grabbed his collar, kissing him right there on the street, his hands grabbing at Evan’s hips, his ass, kissing his neck and collarbone and Evan said, his voice low, “We ought to move this inside or we’re going to give your neighbors a show.”

That made Connor burst out laughing again, but nevertheless he pulled away, opening the front door to the store and dealing with the alarm code while Evan closed and locked the door again and then all but picked Connor up and dragged him to his apartment. They didn’t even make it inside the apartment before Evan was stumbling out of his pants and Connor’s shirt was discarded and hanging off of the stair railing and once they were in the living room, Evan pulled off Connor’s belt with a flourish, dropping to his knees and kissing Connor’s chest and stomach and Connor was giggling still, wheezing, “Stephen Fucking Hawking” and then Evan was giggling too, his head resting briefly against Connor’s skinny hips but then he remembered Connor had a hard penis that desperately needed sucking so he redoubled his efforts to remove Connor’s pants and boxers, freeing his cock flushed red at the tip and greedily taking it into his mouth because he had to hear Connor moan, like, immediately.

“Fuck, Evan,” Connor said, his voice hoarse, his fingers gripping onto Evan’s hair as he bobbed his head on Connor’s cock, varying the speed and depth, making Connor gasp a few times, his tongue paying extra attention to the tip, licking across the slit and rubbing against the underside and Connor’s hips bucked a few times. “Fuck,” Connor groaned again.

Evan pulled his mouth off of Connor’s cock and Connor kissed him immediately, mumbling against Evan’s mouth that they ought to move this to the bedroom, “I want you to fuck me oh my god,” Connor said and Evan’s cock thought that was an extremely intriguing idea so he got hurriedly to his feet and pulled Connor into his bedroom, practically throwing him on the bed. He looked so good, his cheeks flushed from laughing and from getting turned on, and Evan unconsciously stroked himself at the sight, loving the way Connor was so hard for him. He pulled away so they could both discard the few items of clothing they were still wearing and then Evan had to kiss Connor again, had to run his tongue over his nipple and playfully nip at it, had to make Connor smile and laugh and gasp all at once. He had to kiss his sides, his lips had to ghost over Connor’s rib cage because he knew it sort of tickled him and he liked Connor like this, all open and laughing.

Connor whined when Evan kissed his hipbones, muttering that Connor was “too damn skinny” and Connor retorted “Oh you like it” and Evan did, he liked how Connor’s body looked a lot a lot a lot and then he wrapped his lips gently, wetly over the flushed head of Connor’s cock once more, tasting him and loving the way Connor threw his head back in pleasure. He kept kissing him, his mouth tracing a wet line from his cock, over Connor’s balls, and to his ass. He nudged Connor’s legs up, and Connor complied, exposing his hole and Evan kissed him, his tongue gently teasing at him and Connor whimpered, muttered, “Fuck, Evan.”

“That okay?” he asked and Connor gasped yes so he kept going, licking a broader stroke across Connor’s hole and enjoying the way his whole body seemed to vibrate. He kept going, his tongue sliding wetly around Connor’s hole, eventually pushing it inside of Connor and Connor jerked almost violently, and he cried out, “Oh my god” and so Evan kept going, eating Connor out, his tongue fucking him while Connor writhed against him, moaning helplessly, and then Evan pressed in his finger tip beside his tongue, still licking and fucking Connor with his mouth but just keeping the finger there, a promise of what he had in mind, and Connor was begging, pleading, “Please please _Evan_ please.”

Evan pulled back slightly, admiring the bright pink wetness of Connor’s hole, and then he looked up at Connor, smirking, and asked, “What do you want?”

“Please, oh my god, can you please… your fingers, please?”

Well, since Connor asked so nicely…

Evan pulled himself out from between Connor legs, reaching for the bedside table to find the lube and condoms. He poured a generous amount on his fingers and impatiently pressed two into Connor’s ass at once. Connor stilled beneath him and Evan started to apologize if that was too much but then Connor was pulling Evan in for a dirty kiss and Evan started to fuck Connor with his fingers, moving them in and out of him, and Connor groaned and then he was smiling, like, so wide.

“What?”

“We made out behind a giant trash can,” He said, giggling a little bit and then his laugh turned into a gasp of pleasure and he kissed Evan again, harder, “this is better,” he mumbled against Evan’s lips, kissing Evan’s neck and Evan had to agree this was was a lot better. His own cock was desperately hard and he really really wanted to fuck Connor but he couldn’t make himself pull his fingers away, so intoxicated by the the sounds Connor was making and the way his eyes kept squeezing closed and fuck fuck he was so hot.

“Please,” Connor whimpered. “Please oh my god, I need you inside me, fuck, fuck, can I ride you please Evan?”

Evan nodded, because yes, holy fuck, yes. He pulled his fingers out of Connor and reached for the condom, ripping it open with his teeth because his fingers were too shaky and slick. Then Connor was rubbing some lube onto Evan’s cock and he was so fucking hard, holy fuck, and Connor climbed on top of Evan and slowly, agonizingly slowly, lowered himself onto Evan’s dick, his eyes squeezing closed.

“Fuck,” Connor said, and Evan responded with a blissed out “Yeah” as Connor began to move his hips and Evan thrusted up, moving to meet him. Evan reached for Connor’s cock, rock hard and heavy in Evan’s hand, and he began to stroke Connor to match their rhythm.

“Can’t believe Andi left to fucking bang the lighting designer,” Connor said suddenly, smirking. “I can’t believe there was a breakdancing Stephen Hawking in that show!”

“I can’t believe you’re thinking about that while we’re fucking,” Evan said indignantly, his grip on Connor’s cock tightening a little and thrusting harder until Connor lost his train of thought, his jaw slackening.

“Fuck, sorry, it was just, _fuck_ , so funny,” Connor said breathlessly.

“I can’t believe we ran into the guy you ghosted,” Evan said, still focusing on stroking Connor while Connor began to quicken his pace.

“Fuck that was so weird, I’m sorry, fuck,” he said, his voice tight. “Fuck, Evan, you’re gonna make me come, fuck -”

“Good,” Evan said, his hand twisting a bit as he ended each stroke. “You look so hot when you come, fuck, I want you to come, I want you to.”

Connor nodded, his brow furrowing, his nails digging into Evan’s chest, and he slammed himself down harder on Evan’s cock, his hips moving erratically as Evan stroked him faster. “Fuck fuck fuck,” Connor cried, and he was so so tight around Evan’s cock then, almost painfully tight as he came into Evan’s hand, and Evan looked at his face, his eyes closed tight, his jaw slack and he was so hot like this so fucking hot like this and he kept thrusting up into Connor, his hips snapping and snapping as he finished, burying himself as deep as he could in Connor as he rode out his orgasm.

“Wow,” Connor said breathless as he shakily climbed off of Evan. “That was… Wow.” And then he cracked up laughing and Evan joined him because. What. The. Fuck. Even was tonight?

“I cannot believe you started talking about the breakdancing Stephen Hawking while I was _in you,_ ” Evan said, giggling and trying but failing to sound indignant.

“Sorry, sorry,” Connor giggled and it took Evan a few minutes to gain his sea legs and dispose of the condom and get up to grab a washcloth to clean Connor up.  Evan offered Connor a high five, which he accepted, slapping his hand against Evan’s enthusiastically, “Fuck we’re so weird.”

“A little, yeah,” Evan said, still laughing as he wiped the come off of Connor’s chest and his own hand. “Though maybe that’s because we died a lot?”

“Fucked with our heads.”

“Fucked with our sense of TIME,” Evan said, flopping back on the mattress and poking Connor in the ribs, making him laugh again.

“Oh my god I should have known there would be tits since Andi invited me,” Connor said. “But I guess I didn’t expect the person to be like ‘time is time is time’ or whatever the fuck with her tits out.”

“The tap dancing guy was so committed,” Evan said conversationally. “He could rap pretty well too.”

“Maybe they’ll recruit him from Time-ku right into _Hamilton_.”

That just set the two of them off on another giggle fit. “What the fuck was that? Is that New York culture Connor? Is that what I’ve been missing while I was in law school and at work?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Connor said, smiling. “One time Andi took me to this Burlesque Review of _The Very Hungry Caterpillar?_ ”

“Oh my god, _why_?” Evan asked.

“Because she’s Andi? I dunno anymore,” Connor said. He told Evan about the review, sparing no details, making Evan laugh and laugh and they stayed up talking until their voices were hoarse, until the light outside of Connor’s window started to turn a watery gray and even though they were just friends and still both naked, Evan fell asleep.

 

He woke up to an alarm and blinked a few times, disoriented. “Fuck,” He said softly, realizing where he was. Connor was passed out beside him, and Evan debated if he was better off trying to sneak out when he remembered to his embarrassment that some of his clothes were still on the stairs leading up to the apartment above the bookstore and one of the weekend folks would probably be coming in at ten and shit.

“Connor,” Evan said gently. “Hey. Your alarm is going off.”

“Shit,” Connor said, looking at his phone.

“I didn’t mean to stay over,” Evan said apologetically. “But… We should probably go get the clothes we left on the stairs before you go back to bed or else your customers might steal my pants.”

Connor blinked a few times. “Oh, uh. I have to work today. We’ve got an author event so I can’t leave Leslie alone.”

“Connor what the fuck?” Evan said, feeling horribly guilty. “I kept you up until like four in the morning, shit, I didn’t know you were working today. I should have let you go to bed.”

Connor shrugged him off. “I’m fine, don’t worry, I’ll just drink some extra coffee.”

“But -” Evan started to protest.

“No, dude, it’s seriously fine,” Connor said. “Let’s go grab your clothes before I have to head downstairs and open up.”

So that’s what they did, Connor in his bathrobe and Evan putting on his clothes as he found them. Connor walked him down the stairs when he was fully dressed, told him to take care, and sent him on his way.

It had been a super fun night, Evan thought. The sort of night he’d always heard about people in New York having. He just hoped Connor didn’t regret it too much while he was working that day.

* * *

Connor’s going over the accounts after closing when he gets a text from Evan saying he’s downstairs. Connor heads down the stairs and opens up the front of the store, and there’s Evan, with Thai food in one hand and dairy-free ice-cream in the other.

 

Connor’s really fucking pleased to see him.

 

“Hey,” he greets him, and they head up to the apartment. “What’s up?”

 

“I worked late,” Evan admits, “and I figured with how busy you’ve been lately, you’d be working, too. Thought you could do with some food.”

 

Connor thinks back to the last time he ate and thinks he had a banana for breakfast. Suddenly, he’s ravenous. They sit at the kitchen table and dig in and Connor, apologetically, says he just needs to finish up his report, so keeps working while they eat.

 

After a while, he notices Evan’s frowning. “What?” he asks.

 

“Coming from me this probably sounds a bit rich,” says Evan, his voice careful, “but you’ve been working a lot. When did you last have a day off?”

 

“It’s been a while,” Connor admits. “We’ve just had the author meetings, and training Maureen. But it’s just temporary. Maureen’s got her first day unsupervised this Sunday, although I’m technically on call if anything goes wrong, so… it’s kind of a day off?”

 

“You’ve only had one weekend off this month,” Evan points out, still frowning. “I mean, I work long hours, but I still take weekends off.”

 

“You answer emails all weekend,” Connor counters. He shrugs. “Look, I know it’s been a bit much recently, but it’s just a short-term thing. I can handle it.”

 

Evan doesn’t look like he’s convinced, but he goes back to his pad thai and Connor goes back to his report. It doesn’t take long until he’s done and he smiles at the pretty nice looking profit they’ve made for the last month.

 

“It’s all looking good,” he says to Evan reassuringly. “There’s a good buffer in case we have any unexpected lulls. The heatwave has been good for business.”

 

“Was there anything you needed me to do?” Evan asks, his face open and warm and Connor is really luck to have him.

 

“I, uh, have something I need notarised,” Connor admits. “But I can totally find someone else to do it if you’re busy-”

 

“I’ll come see you after work tomorrow,” Evan interrupts, his voice firm. “We’ll get that sorted then.”

 

“Will you bring your stamp?” Connor can’t help but quip.

 

“I will definitely bring my stamp.”

 

Connor stands up to get bowls and spoons for the ice-cream. When he comes back to the table, he sees Evan looking at the report, eyes widening. “That’s… Connor, that’s a really great month,” he says, sounding legitimately impressed.

 

“Thanks,” says Connor, a little embarrassed. “We worked hard.”

 

“ _You_ worked hard,” Evan points out. “You know, you could probably afford to bring another employee on part-time. Go down to four days a week customer-facing. You could have a day that’s devoted to the administration side of things, it might make things a little easier on you.”

 

“Maybe,” Connor says, shrugging a little as he dishes out ice-cream for both of them. “I mean, we’re probably due for a lull in sales anytime now. And hiring someone else straight away is probably a bad move, considering that once I take over officially in August, it’s technically a new business.”

 

“Not really,” Evan says, and he’s frowning again. “It’s still the same business. People know you, you’ve worked there since college. Honestly, once you take over officially, not much is really changing for the customers at all. Most of them won’t even realize the store is under new ownership.”

 

“I guess,” Connor says, handing Evan a bowl. “I’ll think about it.”

 

It’s probably a lie. What he’s really thinking about is his dad, sitting in a way too fancy hotel bar, sneering at him.

 

_You’re still opening a new business. And most new businesses fail in the first two years._

 

Connor really, really doesn’t want to fail.


	17. July (One Year and Five Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan takes his dental hygiene very seriously.

As June turns to July, the store keeps being steadily busy. There’s a packed calendar of events, as Connor had anticipated a slow summer, and it’s turning out to have been a very good move because sales are up in a major way. 

 

It’s nice to see the store full of people, Connor thinks on a Thursday afternoon in early July. The sunshine spot has a pair of teenage boys sitting reading, every now and then stopping to chat a little, but mostly they just seem to be enjoying each other’s company and enjoying the books. One of the boys is wearing black eyeliner and ripped jeans and the other is clean-cut and kind of dorky-looking, and Connor kind of finds himself reminded of what he and Evan were like in high school. 

 

Except that they weren’t friends. 

 

And Connor didn’t wear eyeliner. 

 

Still, it’s the quintessential high school odd couple, and Connor feels like maybe that would have been what a friendship between he and Evan back then would have looked like, a little. 

 

As it gets closer to 6pm, Connor heads over to the boys in the sunshine spot and regretfully asks them if they could move, because he has to set things up for the open mic night. They apologize for overstaying and Connor assures them they haven’t, that it’s fine, that any other day would have been fine. “It’s just because of the open mic,” Connor promises them. “And you can stick around if you want. Feel free to move the cushions somewhere else.”

 

“My mom wants me to come home,” says the clean-cut looking kid, looking a little disappointed. His eyes light up when he looks at the other kid. “She’s making tamales, wanna come over?”

 

“Fuck yeah,” says the kid in the eyeliner, smiling, and they head off into the evening holding hands, and Connor thinks it’s really cute. 

 

Connor sends Maureen out to get herself something to eat, as she’s working late to help with the open mic, and as she’s leaving, one of the local singer-songwriters who lends the store their sound equipment shows up with their gear. Connor helps Carmen carry things in, then helps her set up everything up. 

 

Maureen’s back soon with a burrito, and once she’s finished eating she sets up a table with coffee and tea and some cookies and sets out a little donation bowl so people can help themselves to a hot drink and donate what they can. It’s a pretty straightforward system, and it more than covers costs. There’s no cover charge for the open mic night - it’s just a chance for people to hang out, listen to some music and buy some books. 

 

Honestly, Connor kind of loves these open mic nights because they’re a chance for people to hang out and chill, but even if he didn’t love them, he’d still keep running them because the amount of sales he makes totally justifies the cost of being open a few hours longer. 

 

He and Maureen move a couple of displays to make space to put out some chairs and move the beanbags and cushions to the front, and they dim the lights a little and it’s all pretty cosy, Connor thinks. People start pouring in around 7pm and Connor takes a moment to eat a sandwich in the staff kitchen before heading to the mic to introduce the evening, thank everyone for coming and then hang the reins to Carmen, who does a small set of songs to kick things off then introduces the other acts. 

 

It’s around 8.30pm when Evan shows up. He looks good in the suit he’s wearing, and while he looks a little tired, he doesn’t look more tired than usual. Connor’s glad to see him, and grins widely when he catches his eye. 

 

“Hey, you made it,” he says, bumping Evan with his shoulder gently. “How are you?”

 

“Good,” Evan says, and he sounds a little surprised. “I’m great, actually.” He smiles at Connor and looks around the room. “How’s the open mic going?”

 

“It’s been pretty good, actually,” Connor says with a nod. “Had some poets, some singers, this one guy doing standup.”

 

Evan looks around and his eyes widen a little in recognition. “I think that girl with the blue hair lives near me,” he says. “I see her walking her dog past my apartment building sometimes.”

 

“You missed her singing,” Connor tells him with a laugh. “She sang this song about penises, it was great.” He grins at the memory. “A very trans-inclusive song about penises. Maureen is thinking of proposing.”

 

“Aww,” says Evan with a grin. “Their babies will have purple hair.” Connor’s about to come up with a reply when a short blonde walks up to the girl with the blue hair and kisses her. “Oh no, poor Maureen,” says Evan, with this overly dramatic gasp that makes Connor chuckle. 

 

“Oh hey, I think that’s one of the YA authors I had in last month,” Connor says, noting that he recognizes the blond. “Nice person. Very good public speaker.”

 

It’s then that the two of them seem to notice they’re being looked at, and the blond waves at Connor a little awkwardly, and he waves awkwardly back, and then they go investigate the travel section and Connor looks at Evan, who’s laughing at him a little. 

 

Evan kind of lounges against the counter as Connor rings up the occasional customer and they listen to the performers. He looks relaxed, which Connor likes, and he’s in a suit Connor doesn’t think he’s seen before. 

 

“Is that a new suit?” Connor asks in the middle of an act where a teenager with braces plays the banjo surprisingly well. 

 

“Actually, yeah,” Evan says, sounding a little surprised that Connor noticed. 

 

“Looks good.” Connor grins. He finds himself looking Evan up and down and unconsciously bites his lip. “Really good, actually.”

 

Evan shoots him this really fucking sexy grin and Connor kind of wants to just ask Maureen if she can close things up herself so he can drag Evan upstairs to bed but that would be extremely unprofessional, so he doesn’t. 

 

It’s nearly ten when the night finally wraps up, and Evan offers to help carry sound equipment into Carmen’s car, so it doesn’t take too long to get packed up. Connor and Maureen put the displays back to normal and move the cushions and when Connor goes to put the last of the coffee mugs in the kitchen, he finds that Evan’s already started on the dishes. 

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Connor says, and Evan kind of rolls his eyes at him. 

 

“I know,” he says, and goes right back to washing dishes. Connor picks up a tea towel and dries them, then puts them back in the cupboard. It’s not long before that’s done, too. 

 

Maureen heads off and Connor locks up as she does, then he and Evan head back upstairs. “Seems like it was a successful night,” Evan says. 

 

“Yeah, it was pretty lucrative, actually,” Connor admits. “Definitely worth staying open late for the extra sales. Plus, it helps raise the store’s profile, you know? People know it’s here, know it’s not just a bookstore. Means they’re more likely to be loyal. More likely to come and buy their books here instead of just ordering off Amazon.”

 

“The great corporate evil,” Evan says with a grin, and Connor nods emphatically. Evan reaches into Connor’s cupboard and pulls out some glasses and a bottle of whisky and pours them each a glass. Connor comes over to stand next to Evan and then clink their glasses together before drinking. “So,” Evan says, his voice deliberately casual once he’s had a sip of whisky, “I saw the what’s on sign on the door when I came in. There’s a lot happening in July, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” Connor says with a nod. “I wanted to combat any potential lulls.” He shrugs. “Sales were down in April and May, but June was really good, so I’m wanting to keep momentum.”

 

“I remember seeing that June was really good,” Evan says, and he’s still got that casual tone. “Just looks like a really busy month. And I know that Maureen’s still a newbie, but you must be putting in a lot of extra time with all these events. Maybe it really is worth hiring someone else.”

 

“Not now,” Connor says, trying not to sound irritated, because they’ve had this conversation before already, and Connor knows that the minute he hires someone else it’s going to cut into profits, and it’s going to fuck everything up. “I’ve got everything handled.”

 

“You look tired,” Evan says, frowning a little. “You’ve seemed really tired the last few months, I just-”

 

“You just what?” Connor snaps. “Don’t think I can handle it?”

 

Evan looks a little offended. “Of course you can handle it,” he says immediately, and his frown has deepened. “But you don’t deserve to be running yourself ragged over it. It’s okay to ask for help, you know.”

 

“If I needed help, I’d ask,” Connor says, and he’s trying to sound less angry but he knows he still sounds more than a little pissed off. “It’s… look, you don’t have to worry about me, okay? Sure, I’m a bit tired, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” He takes a breath. Tries to steady himself. “I’ve got Maureen on Sundays by herself now, and I only have part days on Saturdays while we do some more of these author meet and greets, so it’s not like I’m working every day.”

 

“It’s not like you’re getting a proper weekend, either,” Evan points out. “And you worked three weeks without a break last month, Connor, I-”

 

“You regularly work 80 hour weeks,” Connor says firmly. “So don’t… please don’t fight me on this, okay? If anyone’s working too hard, it’s you.”

 

Evan’s quiet for a moment. “Right,” he says, almost to himself. “I mean, you’re right, I work a lot, but I’m used to it and you’re-”

 

“I run a business,” Connor points out. “I’m not afraid of working hard. Just because I’m not a lawyer-”

 

“This has nothing to do with that,” Evan shoots back immediately. “I’m not… I’m not saying that, I… why are we fighting about this?”

 

“I don’t know,” Connor admits, feeling himself deflate. “I don’t want to fight with you, Evan.” He takes a deep breath. “I appreciate your concern, I get that it comes from a place of… you know, actually giving a fuck about me. But I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

 

Evan bites his lip. “It just feels like all of a sudden you’ve majorly stepped things up-”

 

“Gladys and Martha deserve for their run owning this place to go out on a high note,” Connor says firmly. 

 

Evan’s expression softens a little. “They do,” he says after a moment. “Sorry, I just… you’ve just seemed really tired recently. I worry.”

 

Connor snorts. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he assures him. “You never need to worry about me, Evan, seriously.”

 

There is something Connor can’t quite understand, can’t quite read in Evan’s expression, and it makes something in his chest twist, every time it happens - every time he sees this look on Evan’s face, this look he doesn’t recognize. 

 

“You’re my best friend,” Evan says quietly. “I get to worry about you. I’m allowed.”

 

“But you don’t need to,” Connor says firmly. “I’m fine.” He finishes his whisky, and pours another glass. Looks Evan up and down. “That suit is really, really nice,” he says. 

 

Evan’s expression shifts, and this one… this one Connor knows. “Oh yeah?” Evan says, a little teasingly. “You thinking of getting on the suit bandwagon?”

 

“Suits are your thing,” Connor says with a smirk, taking another sip of his whisky. “I definitely like you in a suit.” He downs his whisky and bites his lip. “I like you out of a suit, too.”

 

“I’ve noticed,” Evan says with a smirk of his own, moving closer to Connor and tugging at his belt loops. “Past experience has taught me that you’re very interested in the idea of me not wearing a suit.”

 

“Not my fault you’re ridiculously hot,” Connor says immediately, and Evan presses up against him and pulls him into a searing kiss, and Connor can feel that Evan’s getting hard. He reaches down and pulls Evan toward him, grabbing his ass, which looks very very nice in these suit pants, then reaches down to undo Evan’s belt. Evan gasps, and Connor drops to his knees and focuses on undoing Evan’s belt, then pulling down his pants and his boxers so he can get to Evan’s cock. 

 

“Fuck,” Evan moans as Connor takes Evan’s cock in his mouth, grabbing Evan’s hips to steady himself, focusing on licking and sucking and making Evan moan even louder, and Evan pulls at Connor’s hair a little and Connor redoubles his efforts until Evan’s panting and moaning and then Evan tugs at his hair even harder. “Wanna fuck you,” he pants. “You should let me.”

 

Connor absolutely agrees, and pulls away and scrambles to his feet and heads for the bedroom, turning to raise a challenging eyebrow at Evan as he takes off his shirt while he’s walking through the doorway. Once he’s in his room, he takes off his shoes and socks, then decides he’s got to focus on getting Evan out of his very nice suit. Evan kicks off his own shoes and pulls off his socks a little awkwardly, and Connor gently slides off Evan’s jacket, then starts unbuttoning his shirt, and Evan takes the opportunity to undo Connor’s belt. 

 

Once they’re both naked, Evan throws Connor onto his bed, kisses him deeply and leans over to rummage through the bedside table for condoms and lube. He pours some lube on his fingers and Connor decides that he’s going to distract Evan by reaching for Evan’s cock, stroking it slowly and Evan gasps and swears and closes his eyes for a moment. “Fuck,” Connor mutters as he strokes Evan. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

 

“Quit distracting me,” Evan growls, then reaches down and starts fingering Connor and Connor’s the one gasping now, fuck, Evan’s fingers feel so good, pressing against him and sending hot waves of pleasure throughout his body. “Fuck, Connor, fucking hell you’re hot. I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?”

 

“Please,” Connor gasps, and Evan grins wickedly and positions himself and enters Connor slowly at first, but quickly picks up the pace, and he’s holding onto Connor’s hips so tightly, fucking him fast and hard, and Connor wraps his hand around his cock and throws his head back and just lets himself drown in the sensation, giving into how fucking good it feels when Evan fucks him, and Evan moans his name as he comes and Connor’s not far behind. 

 

It’s faster than usual, but it doesn’t mean it’s any less intense and amazing, fucking hell. 

 

Evan goes to grab a washcloth from the bathroom after disposing of the condom, and Connor takes a moment to check to see how they’re doing on condoms, kind of glad that it’s summer and if they did have to make an emergency run to the pharmacy because they wanted to keep fucking at least it wouldn’t be so cold. He makes a mental note to put condoms on his shopping list, as the box is getting a little low. 

 

When Evan comes back, he hands Connor the washcloth and he cleans himself up and puts it on his bedside table. Evan lies back down next to Connor for a moment, looking like he’s still out of breath, still exhausted. 

 

“Nice job on the sex,” Connor says, raising his hand for a high five. 

 

Evan laughs and high fives him back, then puts his head on the pillow and closes his eyes for a minute. “That was… I needed that.”

 

“Sex is pretty good for stress relief,” Connor says with a grin. 

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, and he’s got a big smile on his face, and Connor’s struck with the urge to wrap his arm around Evan and curl around him, wrap himself around him like some kind of gangly limpet, but that would be weird because Evan doesn’t like cuddling. 

 

Connor puts his own head on the other pillow, the one of the left side of the bed, and closes his eyes too. 

 

Just for a minute. 

 

He wakes up to the sound of snoring, and looks over to see Evan’s out like a light. Connor picks up his phone to check the time and sees it’s about 2am, which… isn’t quite what he’d planned. 

 

Evan mumbles something in his sleep and rolls over, flinging an arm over Connor, and Connor kind of laughs a little. Evan is warm, and he smells good, and Connor pulls the blankets over both of them and lets himself enjoy how nice it feels to have Evan curled up against him in the hopes he’ll get back to sleep. 

 

Half an hour passes and he still can’t sleep. It feels weird to have Evan snuggling up to him when he doesn’t realise he’s doing it, so Connor gets up to grab a glass of water. As he throws on his bathrobe, he sees Evan’s phone on the floor next to his work bag. Evan’s phone is at about ten percent battery, so Connor grabs the charger out of Evan’s bag and plugs it in on Evan’s side of the bed, putting the phone on to charge on the bedside table. 

 

Connor figures Evan will have an alarm set, and probably an earlier one than Connor. He doesn’t usually stay over on a work night but he looks so peaceful sleeping that Connor wouldn’t dare wake him, wouldn’t dare tell him to go home.

 

It’s always better when Evan’s here anyway. Connor feels less like everything is spinning out of control, less like he’s being weighed down by the threat of failure.

 

He gets a glass of water in the kitchen, then heads to the bathroom. Notices the bottle of pills on the shelf and winces a little. 

 

He’s been slacking off. Not taking his meds regularly enough. 

 

Connor should really get on top of that.

 

Add it to the list. 

 

He takes a pill, then opens the cabinet to pull out the new toothbrushes he’d just bought. There’s a blue and a green, and it takes a minute for him to decide which one he’ll use. Green is a Slytherin color, but Connor knows Evan likes blue, so Connor takes the green and opens it and brushes his teeth.

 

Evan takes his dental health seriously. It’s probably good he has a toothbrush here. 

 

Connor will tell him about it in the morning. 

 

He’s weirdly wired, all of a sudden. Connor hasn’t really been sleeping amazingly recently - honestly, he’s surprised he did fall asleep earlier. He decides to take the opportunity to go over sales reports for July. 

 

It’s looking good, but it could always be better.

 

Maybe sales would be better if Connor were better at this. Maybe he’s not good enough at the hard sell, he should be better at convincing people to buy things, but that’s never been his style. He wants people to buy books because they love them, not because of some bullshit bottom line. 

 

Then again, he doesn’t want to go bankrupt before he’s 30.

 

Maybe he should have gone to business school. Maybe he should find some kind of… online course or something, something that would make him better at this. 

 

Something that would make him better. 

 

It’s nearly 5am by the time he finally goes back to bed, having researched business classes online for a while, all of them seeming dry as hell and not actually useful, but maybe there’s something out there that would help. 

 

Add it to the list.

 

He briefly considers putting on some underwear but decides not to bother. It’s still so hot, and Evan would probably feel weird being the only one to wake up naked. As he gets into bed, crawls under the blankets, Evan sighs and moves toward him, reaching for him in the dark, and even though Connor knows that Evan is asleep, that he doesn’t know he’s doing this, it makes Connor feel a little less alone.

 

Connor takes in a few deep breaths, trying to center himself a little, and eventually, he drifts off. 

 

* * *

 

Evan opened his eyes to the sound of his alarm going off and realize he had fucked up. He fucked up badly.

He was in Connor’s room, curled around him, his face buried in Connor’s hair, his arm around Connor’s waist, and they were both still naked fuck fuck fuck. Fuck. He had work, he had a staff meeting at 8:00, he was trying really hard not to act like he was desperately in love with Connor and falling asleep and cuddling with him naked was not the way to do it. 

Evan pulled away from Connor, trying not to wake him, trying to find his phone and shut off his alarm, trying to find his fucking clothes, fuck -

“What’s that?” Connor mumbled.

“Nothing,” Evan said softly. “Sorry I… I fell asleep, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor said, reaching over to where Evan’s phone was plugged in and he hadn’t done that, he hadn’t plugged in his phone he wouldn’t have thought ahead like that. Connor handed the phone to Evan, who saw it was almost seven o’clock. 

“I’ve gotta get to work,” He said, frowning. “Shit, I’m gonna be late. I have to go home and change.”

“You left a suit here,” Connor said. “The gray one?”

“Oh,” Evan said, relieved. “When did I…?”

“April.”

“Right,” Evan said, blinking a few times. “Right.”

“Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll make some coffee.”

“Right. Thanks,” Evan said, heading for the bathroom quickly. He showered fast, using Connor’s sandalwood scented body wash, washing his hair and face, and then he wrapped a towel around his waist, pulling open the door and calling to Connor, “Any chance you have a spare toothbrush?”

“Yeah, in the cabinet. It’s blue.”

Evan pulled the cabinet open, finding an unopened blue toothbrush and finding that his heart was pounding loudly at the sight of a toothbrush, a spare toothbrush. 

Evan needed to get it together. It was just a fucking toothbrush, Connor probably just got it on sale, fuck. He brushed his teeth and then hurried out of the bathroom. Connor was standing in the doorway of his bedroom in his underwear, saying, “Hey so you left a pair of boxers here too. I washed them a while back, so. They’re on the bed.”

“Thanks,” Evan said breathlessly, grabbing them and pulling them on fast. 

“Hey, slow down,” Connor said as Evan hurriedly buttoned up his shirt. “It’s only just seven, you don’t need to rush.”

“Yeah but I-” Evan started but realized, well, he was rushing. He had some time. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry, I just… I didn’t mean to totally just stay over like this I feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad,” Connor said. “You’re fine.” 

“Right,” Evan said. 

“Come on, I made coffee.” Evan followed Connor into the kitchen, knotting his tie as he walked. Connor put a few pieces of toast in front of Evan and a cup of coffee. “You should eat something.”

“Okay,” Evan said. He ate the toast, checking his email as he did. Nothing new there. He took a sip of coffee and Connor had already put almond milk in it for him and fuck. Fuck fuck fuck he had slept here, he’d slept over and Connor had made him coffee and this was weird, this was wrong, fuck. He’d fucked up, Connor was going to tell him to fuck off, shit shit. 

“You alright?” Connor asked. 

“I-” Evan started, but his voice failed him. “I. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Don’t mention it,” Connor said with a grin. “Are you doing anything tonight? We could hang out?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, distracted. “Yeah I mean I dunno how late I’ll work but… yeah. I can come over? Unless you wanted to come to my place?”

“Eh, no roommates here to bother,” Connor said, smiling. 

“Right,” Evan said, standing up, pulling on his suit coat. 

“So I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, smiling awkwardly. He headed downstairs, and Connor followed, disarming the alarm as Evan headed out the door of the bookstore. The bright side of this little accidental sleepover was that Connor’s place was closer to his office and Evan was not late to his meeting. 

But he was distracted as hell all day, thinking about waking up next to Connor. Distracted by the fact that he smelled like Connor’s soap all day. Plus there was the fact that his impromptu sleepover meant he’d skipped his meds last night so he was headachey and on edge. 

Evan skipped out on grabbing a drink with Mariah, Asher, and Charles in favor of going home and napping for a while. He took his meds before he did, and then, considering it for a moment… threw them into his bag. Just in case. 

He made his way over to Connor’s, stopping at the pharmacy to buy some more condoms, just as a precaution. He figured, really, they ought to discuss whether it was alright for Evan to sleep over because, like, they hadn’t planned it and it had happened a time or two before but now it felt weirder, even more off the table because usually Evan would have at least gone and slept on the sofa. 

Fuck. 

When he got to the bookstore, Connor was just closing up and he pulled Evan inside roughly before Evan could even say a word. 

“Everything alright?” Evan asked. 

“Busy day,” Connor said, grabbing Evan roughly by the hips as he pushed him inside of Connor’s apartment. “A lot of admin work, sales reports, blah blah blah. I need a distraction.”

“Okay,” Evan said breathlessly. “You okay?” He asked. 

“I’m great,” Connor said, flashing Evan a grin before kissing him again. “So I was thinking you could let me fuck you?”

Evan inhaled sharply. “Yeah?”

“Like I said, I could use a distraction,” Connor said, and he was kissing Evan’s neck and Evan sighed. He cupped Evan through his shorts roughly, his mouth biting at Evan’s collar bone. “Can I? Can I fuck you?”

“I think you could ask nicer than that,” Evan said, his voice ragged, not doing a terribly convincing job of denying him. 

“Please?” Connor said, placing another kiss on Evan’s neck. “Pretty please?”

“Alright,” Evan said, nodding. “Alright.”

“Great,” Connor said, pulling Evan in for another kiss, deep and hot and he pressed his crotch against Evan’s and Evan groaned. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Evan nodded.

Connor grabbed Evan by the wrist, pulling him along toward the bedroom, pushing Evan onto the bed roughly, his hands immediately going for Evan’s fly, unbuttoning and unzipping him, and Evan raised his hips slightly to help Connor pull his clothes off. He yanked off his t-shirt, finding himself thankful he’d worn flip flops here because it was always awkward to pause to take off your socks and ever since the time Connor had brought it up, Evan always sort of focused on it. 

Naked, he pulled Connor in for a kiss, and Connor’s hand gently brushed against Evan’s erection and Evan gasped. He pulled back, pulling off Connor’s shirt while Connor undid his belt and fly, taking his boxers and jeans off in one motion. He pushed Evan back onto the bed roughly, kissing his chest, down his stomach, and Evan groaned as he descended on Evan’s hips and then his thighs. 

He retreated, pulling Evan in for a kiss. “Turn over,” Connor said into Evan’s ear and Evan shivered slightly but complied, rolling onto his belly, his hard cock pressed helplessly against the mattress. Connor kissed the back of Evan’s neck, his shoulder blades, and Evan gasped as Connor’s lips traced their way down Evan’s spine. His breathing hitched as Connor pressed a kiss to Evan’s tailbone, Evan’s hips jerking suddenly. Connor took firm hold of Evan’s ass cheeks, spreading them apart and Evan felt exposed, his heart pounding hard in his chest. He could feel Connor’s hot breath against him and Evan gasped as Connor’s mouth made contact. “Fuck,” Evan mumbled as Connor licked Evan’s hole. His hips jerked as Connor’s tongue licked him again, Connor’s fingers pressing hard into Evan’s skin. 

“You good?” Connor said, his hot breath hitting Evan’s sensitive skin. 

“Yes, yes,” Evan said. 

And Connor drove back in, licking Evan’s hole broadly, making Evan moan loudly by rubbing his lips over him. “Fuck, Connor, fuck.”

“You look hot like this,” Connor said, licking him again, his tongue pushing inside Evan and he lost his breath totally, his hands grasping frantically at the sheets, he was losing himself in this moment, in this pleasure. 

Connor pulled his mouth away, his finger appearing in its place, gently pressing against him. “You ready for my fingers?”

“Yes,” Evan panted. “Please.”

Connor chuckled slightly. “I like you like this.”

“Shut up,” Evan said, smiling a bit, and then Connor’s fingers disappeared. Evan heard, rather than saw, Connor pop open the bottle of lube. 

Connor’s finger reappeared, the lube cold to the touch as he gently pressed his finger inside of Evan and Evan gasped, his cock throbbing against the mattress. Evan felt himself contracting around Connor’s finger, and he took a breath, and Connor’s voice was in his ear, kissing his cheek gently, “Relax.”

Evan nodded, took another deep breath, and tried to relax into the way Connor’s finger was fucking him, the way it was moving slowly one moment then faster the next. Just as he was getting used to the sensation, Connor added a second finger, and Evan groaned as they worked him open, sliding in and out, making wet, dirty sounds that Evan lost himself in. 

Connor’s kept working on him, the stretch burning a bit, pleasure flashing in waves when he pressed his fingers once, twice, three times against Evan’s prostate, causing Evan’s eyes to squeeze shut, his mouth to fall open. “Fuck, Connor,” Evan mumbled, his fingers twisted tightly in the sheets. 

“You ready?”

“Yes,” Evan groaned. 

“Okay,” Connor said, his fingers suddenly gone, making Evan let out a frustrated whine. “Up on your hands and knees.”

Fuck, he wasn’t sure they could hold his weight up, Evan thought, but he dutifully pressed himself up while Connor reached for the condom, tearing it open. 

“How…?” Connor started, pausing to press a kiss to the back of Evan’s neck, “Do you get these things open with your teeth?” He asked. “I’d be afraid I’d rip it.” Evan could feel Connor repositioning himself behind Evan, the head of his cock pressed against Evan’s hole. 

“You, uh, you push the condom to the side in the wrapper,” Evan said, struggling to focus. “So it’s, um, it’s not near your teeth?”

“Fascinating,” Connor said. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

“Okay,” Evan said, and then Connor pushed inside him and he thought, just for a moment, that he might be dying. Because Evan knew how it felt to die, to suddenly stop breathing, the burn in your lungs and this was similar but much, much better, so much hotter and Connor’s hips started to move and Evan found himself whimpering at first, because he was overwhelmed. Connor stilled for a second, like he might ask if Evan was alright, but Evan sucked in a deep breath and said, “Fine, I’m fine,” and then Connor’s hips thrust again and Evan moved to meet them. 

“Fuck, Evan,” Connor growled. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up, fuck.”

Evan was privately sort of counting on that. He did love it when he got Connor off first. It gave him a strange sense of pride. Connor pushed in again, harder this time, and Evan moved to meet him, groaning, and then Connor began to fuck him in earnest, his hips setting a torturous rhythm, and he reached around Evan’s hips to stroke his cock, and Evan lost himself in it, in the way Connor felt inside him the way his hand was moving, stroking his cock, the way Connor’s other hand was gripping his hip hard, likely to leave a bruise. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Evan gasped as Connor’s cock angled just right inside him, and he wasn’t going to last, his arms weren’t going to hold him up, he was shaking, he felt sweat dripping down his face, over his nose and it was too much it was all too much and then Connor’s hand twisted slightly on Evan’s cock and he was coming, hard, his body going tight around Connor, and Evan cried out, unable to stop himself. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

“Oh my god,” Connor groaned, releasing Evan’s cock and using both hands now to grab tightly at Evan’s hips, pulling him back as Connor fucked him and then Connor let out a moan, low and loud and Evan knew he was finished too. 

“Evan, wow,” Connor said, his voice hoarse as he pulled out of Evan. Evan flinched slightly at the sudden absence of him, and his arms finally gave out. Evan collapsed onto the bed, and Connor stood to dispose of the condom. He looked good, Evan noticed, his face was flushed and his hair sticking to him, coated in sweat. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Connor said and he disappeared for a moment, coming back with a damp washcloth and wiping up the messes left across Evan’s body. 

“Sorry…” Evan said, unable to move, his limbs useless, and Connor laughed a little, flopping down beside him. 

“You okay?” Connor asked, his face turned to look at Evan’s. “Did I wear you out?”

“A bit,” Evan admitted. “Fuck.”

“You’re really good at that,” Connor said. 

“Bottoming?”

“Yes, you’re great at that,” Connor laughed a little,  “But I mean… you’re always wearing me out. So I figured I owed you one.”

Evan nodded, his head about the only thing he trusted himself to move at the moment. Connor flung an arm over him, pulling Evan closer, and Evan let him because he… needed it. Needed to come down from this high, needed to know he was real and Connor was real and he was Evan’s anchor here. They stayed there a while, not really talking, just catching their breath together, breathing each other in and Evan. 

Wondered. 

Just for a moment. 

If it was possible that Connor… felt the same way he did. If there was more to this than affection and sex for him. If it was feasible that Connor might return Evan’s feelings.

“High five?” Connor said, pulling away and offering Evan his hand. 

“Yeah,” Evan said, slapping his palm to Connor’s. “Good job on the sex.”

Definitely not. 

 

* * *

 

Connor’s offered to meet Gladys and Martha at their apartment for their monthly check-ins a million times, but they usually say they’d much rather come to his, even though Martha struggles with the stairs. He knows it’s not that they don’t want him at their house - he’s had dinner there more than once since he first approached them about buying The Little Book Nook. 

 

He thinks it’s got more to do with the fact that they like seeing their old apartment being used, being lived in. It must remind them of the past. 

 

Maureen’s covering Leslie’s usual Saturday shift, and she’s tidying a display when Gladys and Martha arrive and Connor comes down to the store to greet them. It occurs to Connor that Maureen hasn’t actually met Martha, so he takes the time to introduce them before they head upstairs. 

 

“Maureen, this is Gladys’s wife Martha,” he says. “Martha, this is Maureen. She’s been with us since… June, is that right?”

 

“That’s right,” says Maureen, coming out from behind the counter to shake Martha’s hand. She smiles a little shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

 

“Likewise,” says Martha with an encouraging smile. “Now, you must tell me, dear - how do you get your hair such a lovely shade of mint green?”

 

“Patience,” Maureen quips, and Martha laughs. “I tend to go for the pastel colors, but I do change it up pretty frequently.”

 

“It was pink when we interviewed you,” Gladys recalls. “I quite liked the pink. But the green suits you as well. Very nice.” 

 

“Maureen’s just finished her sophomore year at NYU,” Connor explains. “She’ll be going into her junior year in September.”

 

“That’s fantastic,” Martha says warmly. “And what are you studying?”

 

“English literature, with a minor in French.”

 

“I spent some time in Paris in my early twenties,” Gladys says, her tone wistful. “And then in the late 70s, Martha and I spent a marvellous summer in the south of France. Remember, darling?”

 

“Oh, it was absolutely marvellous,” Martha says, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “I recall Gladys having a delightful time on one of those topless beaches.”

 

“The French are far less uptight about nudity,” says Gladys matter-of-factly. “One of the things I’ve always appreciated about them.”

 

Martha laughs. “As much as I love a good topless beach, I was far more interested in the wine and cheese.”

 

“Really?” says Gladys, her tone teasing as she beams at her wife. “I remember you being quite fond of me topless that summer.”

 

“Not just that summer, my love.”

 

“On that note, we’re going to have a business meeting,” says Connor, rolling his eyes slightly in Maureen’s direction, eliciting a chuckle from the younger woman. “I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.” With that, he takes Martha’s arm and with practised ease, slowly helps her up the stairs to his apartment, Gladys following closely behind. 

 

He gets Martha settled at the kitchen table, where’s he’s already got his laptop and account books ready to go. “She seems lovely,” says Martha, and Connor’s not even slightly surprised when she pulls a bottle of merlot out of her handbag. 

 

Gladys is already taking three wine glasses from the cupboard over the sink. “You said she’s picked things up quickly, isn’t that right Connor, dear?”

 

“Absolutely,” Connor says, going to grab a corkscrew so he can open the bottle to let it breathe before they drink it. “And she’s great with the customers, especially when it comes to recommendations.”

 

“That’s wonderful,” says Martha warmly. “I’ve always thought being able to recommend something to the customers is what separates the smaller, independent bookstores from the big chains. It’s about a personal experience and connection.”

 

Connor nods. “Yeah, that’s definitely important. Both Maureen and Leslie really know their stuff, which helps.”

 

Gladys sets the wine glasses on the table, then takes a seat next to Martha. She looks around the room, then gestures to the window. “You’ve got new curtains.”

 

“Yeah, I finally hung them up,” Connor says, a little sheepishly. “They’re not actually new. My mom got them for me the last time she visited.” 

 

“They definitely brighten up the place,” says Martha thoughtfully. “I get the feeling you’re not much of an interior designer.”

 

“Not so much,” Connor admits with a shrug. “But my mom and my sister have helped. I figure this is going to be home for a while, so… better make it feel like it, right?”

 

The little apartment above the bookstore really is starting to feel like home, Connor has to admit. The curtains in the kitchen aren’t something he thought were really necessary, but he’d put them up in the middle of the night a few days ago when he couldn’t sleep and he has to admit that they make the whole place feel a little more friendly. He spends more of his waking time in the kitchen than any other room, to be honest - the kitchen table’s perfect for working on book-keeping and using his laptop. 

 

Well, aside from his bedroom, but that’s a whole other story. 

 

“Alright,” says Gladys matter-of-factly. “So how’s the last month been?”

 

Connor launches into a breakdown of what’s been going on in the store since they last met - the author meetings, the open mics, all the things Connor’s been doing in the hopes of getting sales up for the summer. Sales are really good, stock’s moving and there haven’t been any major catastrophes since Garrett’s unexpected departure. 

 

Going into August, it should be business as usual. 

 

It still feels kind of weird that Connor’s now got a handle on what business as usual is supposed to like. 

 

Even though he’s still a month away from officially being the owner of the bookstore, at this point it’s more or less just a technicality. Things are sorted with the bank. All the legal stuff has been rigorously and expertly handled thanks to Evan’s hard work. 

 

All seventy-thousand dollars worth of it. 

 

It’s all happening, and the scariest part of the whole thing is that it’s not actually that scary at all. 

 

He feels ready. He feels prepared. 

 

His dad can go fuck himself. 

 

While he’s talking, Martha seems to have decided that the wine has had enough time to breathe and pours them all a generous glass each. Gladys is smiling at Connor encouragingly, and it makes her whole face light up. She looks peaceful and genuinely happy, and something kind of twists pleasantly inside Connor’s chest, because Gladys isn’t the kind of woman who expresses emotion outwardly particularly often. 

 

“It sounds like everything’s well and truly under control,” says Gladys with a decisive nod. “Not that I had any doubts on that front. Now, is there anything you need from us?”

 

“Not that I can think of,” Connor says honestly. “Is there anything you need more information on about last month?”

 

Gladys and Martha exchange a look, then look back at Connor. “I think it’s all very good,” says Martha with a warm smile. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, we can talk about more important things. Like the party.”

 

“If we’re talking about the party, does that mean you’ve changed your mind about letting me help pay for the catering?” Connor asks, his tone more than a little teasing. 

 

“Absolutely not,” Gladys says firmly. “But we do want to confirm numbers from your end. We’re keeping it small, obviously, as there’s not enough space for anything too elaborate, but we do want you to have your important people there.

 

“There aren’t that many people I’ve invited,” Connor says honestly. “My old roommate Andi, my sister Zoe, my mom and Evan.” He thinks for a moment. “Dave and Mikhail from Leatherbird. Oh, and my friend Andre from college. He works at a liquor store and he’s managed to swing us a discount on alcohol.” 

 

Martha sighs. “Connor, dear, when we said we’d take care of the catering, we were talking about the alcohol as well.”

 

“We never turn our noses up at a bargain, darling,” says Gladys to Martha, a little teasingly. She turns back to Connor. “We’ll happily take the discount but we’re still paying.”

 

“I’ll tell Andre.”

 

There are footsteps on the stairs, then the door to the staircase opens and there’s Evan, holding a canvas bag. He looks a little startled to see Martha and Gladys. 

 

“Hello Evan,” says Gladys matter-of-factly. “Good to see you again.”

 

“Hey,” says Connor, standing up to greet him. “I didn’t realize you were coming over.”

 

“It was kind of spur of the moment,” Evan says, his eyes darting nervously, and Connor gets what he means pretty quickly. “But if you’re busy, I can go and we can... hang out some other time.”

 

“Come join us for a drink,” says Gladys, gesturing for Evan to join them at the table. “We’re just finishing up our last monthly meeting before the changeover and we’ve got plenty of wine.” She gets up, goes to the cupboard above the sink and pulls out another wine glass. 

 

Evan looks a little bit like a rabbit in headlights. “I wouldn’t want to impose-”

 

“Nonsense,” says Gladys firmly, taking Evan by the elbow and sitting him down at the dining room table, then putting the glass in front of Evan. 

 

Across the table, Martha pulls another bottle of wine from her handbag, then pauses for a moment, then pulls out a wheel of cheese and a packet of crackers with a brilliant smile. “I forgot I’d brought cheese! Connor, dear, do you have a cheeseboard and a knife?” 

 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to eat cheese anymore, Martha,” says Connor, before taking out the cheeseboard and knife set his mother had given him from the bottom drawer and idly thinking to himself that she’d been absolutely right when she’d said he’d use it one day.

 

“I’m too old to deny myself life’s greatest pleasure,” says Martha, as though she is passing on a profound piece of knowledge. 

 

Connor hands the cheeseboard and knife set to Martha, then takes his seat and realizes that while Evan’s met Gladys a few times now, he’s only met Martha once and she might not remember him. He’s about to re-introduce them when Martha continues. 

 

“Ah, you’re Connor’s lawyer friend Evan,” she says, her voice warm. “I’m Gladys’s wife Martha, we met at Christmas. It’s lovely to see you again.”

 

“Nice to see you again, too,” says Evan, a little awkwardly. Martha reaches out her hand and Evan extends his after a beat, and instead of shaking Evan’s hand, Martha just squeezes it and smiles and Evan smiles back, and there is something strange and familiar as Connor looks on, something warm and important that he can’t quite put his finger on. 

 

Gladys pours Evan a glass of wine, then picks up her own glass and takes a sip. “How are things at the law firm?” she asks Evan. “Evan here is in environmental law, Martha. He passed the bar last year.”

 

“Environmental law,” says Martha, her tone approving. “That’s very good. There’s a lot more that needs to be done to protect the planet.”

 

Evan nods in agreement, and it’s like a switch has been flicked and he launches into a story about a case he’s working on. Martha’s peppering him with thoughtful questions and Evan’s answering them equally as thoughtfully and Gladys interjects every now and then with a question of her own, and Connor’s just happy to sit and drink his wine and listen to Evan talk about something he cares about. Evan’s face is animated and his eyes are bright and he just cares so fucking much, so much that it’s like he can’t even contain it properly and all that caring just radiates out of him and makes you feel like you should care, too. 

 

Connor goes to refill his wine glass and catches a glimpse of Gladys. He sees that she’s looking at Martha as she asks a question, and there’s this look on her face that cuts him to his core. It’s like Gladys is drinking Martha in, letting herself savor everything that the other woman is, like she’d be happy to sit at this kitchen table and watch Martha talk for the rest of her life. 

 

Martha’s face is animated and her eyes are bright and she cares, it’s clear that she cares and…  _ oh _ . 

 

That’s…

 

Connor’s heart is pounding all of a sudden. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” he manages to say, then heads out of the room.

 

When he gets to the bathroom, he locks the door and looks at his reflection in the mirror. It’s a different mirror to the mirror that he saw over and over, the mirror that disappeared. 

 

“Get a grip,” he tells his reflection. 

 

After a few moments of staring, he shakes his head and goes to pee so he can pretend he came to the bathroom to perform a normal bodily function rather than have a minor freak out. 

 

Connor washes his hands, braces himself and heads back to the kitchen to see that Evan’s standing by the oven, putting something on a tray. On closer inspection, he can see that it’s garlic bread. 

 

“I figured we should stop ordering so much pizza and Thai food,” Evan says quietly once Connor’s standing near enough to talk to him without Gladys and Martha overhearing. “So… garlic bread.” He smiles at Connor. “Too hot for soup, though.”

 

_ You’re amazing _ , Connor thinks.

 

“Sounds good,” Connor says. He looks over to where Gladys and Martha are talking, sipping wine and smiling at each other. “Probably good to get Martha to eat something other than just cheese. She’s such a lightweight.”

 

Evan puts the garlic bread into the oven, looks over at Gladys and Martha then looks back at Connor. “They seem great,” he says quietly. 

 

“They are,” Connor agrees. 

 

“How old did you say they are?” 

 

“In their seventies.” Connor can’t help but smile as Martha lets out a laugh at something Gladys is saying. “They met when they were… twenty-seven, I think, and they’ve been together ever since.”

 

“Wow,” says Evan, his voice soft. “That’s… that’s something.” He looks at Connor. “I don’t think I know anyone who’s made it work for that long.”

 

Connor shrugs. “Me either,” he admits. “But like… you look at them, and it kind of makes you think that it’s possible, you know?”

 

Evan nods. “‘Yeah.” 

 

“Connor, Evan,” Martha calls out. “You have to have some of this cheese. Save me from myself, I’m not supposed to eat all of it.”

 

“You’re not supposed to eat any of it,” Gladys corrects her as Connor and Evan come back to sit down. She looks at Connor and her eyes twinkle. “Dairy gives her the shits.”

 

Martha gasps in mock horror. “We’re in polite company, Gladys!”

 

“I’ve known Connor for nearly eight years now,” says Gladys dryly. “He’s far from polite.”

 

Connor can see Evan biting back a laugh. “I’m lactose-intolerant,” he says to Martha apologetically. “So I really shouldn’t.”

 

Martha shakes her head in sympathy, then cuts herself a large chunk of brie. “Such a shame,” she says, before shoving the whole chunk in her mouth. 

 

The four of them end up going through three bottles of wine, the entire wheel of cheese and all of Evan’s garlic bread, engaging in a lively conversation about all sorts of things. It turns out that Gladys and Evan have very similar opinions on Slaughterhouse Five, which amuses Connor to no end. Once they’ve emptied the third bottle, Gladys takes a moment to clink her glass and raise it in the air, her voice a little slurred from alcohol but still as matter-of-fact as ever. 

 

“I don’t mean for this to sound patronizing,” says Gladys, “but I am so proud of you, Connor. Martha and I couldn’t be happier to be leaving the store in your hands.” She reaches and grabs Martha’s hand. Connor can see Martha squeeze it gently. “We know you’re going to do great things.”

 

“Thank you,” says Connor, and there’s a lump in his throat that he’s trying to ignore. “That… you’ve taught me a lot over the last few years and… I’ve wanted to do this for longer than I think I even admitted to myself, you know?”

 

“You’re amazing,” says Evan, looking right at him. “You’re going to be amazing.”

 

“Cheers,” says Gladys, and the four of them clink their glasses. They finish their drinks, then Martha rests her head on Gladys’s shoulder, and Connor can’t help but smile. 

 

He can feel Evan’s thigh pressed against his own. 

 

There’s something tight and warm in his chest. 

 

It takes a bit of maneuvering to get Martha down the stairs but eventually, Connor manages to get the two women out of the bookstore and into a taxi home. When he gets back upstairs, he finds that Evan’s at the sink, cleaning the wine glasses. 

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Connor says, shutting the door to the staircase behind him. 

 

“Red wine stains if you don’t rinse them quickly,” says Evan, like it’s completely obvious, and Connor goes over to stand next to him and grabs a tea towel to dry the glasses. 

 

They finish the dishes in companionable silence. When they’re done, Evan turns to Connor and offers a half smile. 

 

“So,” says Connor, feeling like it needs to be said. “You came over to bring me garlic bread?”

 

There’s something a little hesitant in Evan’s eyes. “Among other things,” he says, his tone deceptively light. 

 

“Right,” says Connor, with a nod that’s more like a jerk of his head. He’s feeling kind of jittery, like he’s been drinking espresso instead of red wine, and he’s warm, and there is something that’s rolling around in his chest like it always does when he’s with Evan because he’s just so incredibly fond of him, Evan has been such a good friend to him over the past year and a half, Evan is so important to him and there’s something strange and delicate about it which makes sense because Connor’s never really had friends, not like this, not in this way that’s honest and real like this is, and that could be why his chest feels so weird, and…

 

Evan puts his hand on Connor’s. It’s a little damp and warm from the dishwater. 

 

Instinctively, without meaning to, Connor moves his fingers so they intertwine with Evan’s, and it’s like setting off sparks, and then Evan’s lips are on his and Evan’s other hand is on his face, then on his hips, and then he’s being pushed against the counter and Evan’s fingers skim the bottom of his shirt, touching his bare skin and it’s so hot in this apartment in the summer but it’s nothing compared to this, and…

 

“Bedroom?” Evan murmurs in his ear. 

 

“Yes,” Connor manages to say before Evan’s kissing him again, leading him through the doorway into the small hallway and through to his bedroom. The windows are open and there’s a cool night breeze flowing through that makes him shiver, and Evan’s fingers brush gently against the side of his face before he’s being guided to the bed, and everything feels like it’s slowed down but sped up at the same time. 

 

There have been so many nights like this one.

 

Nights, afternoons, mornings. 

 

Except they’ve all been frantic and passionate and this is slow and unhurried and almost tender, except that’s not how they do things, that’s not how this goes because this is bodies meeting, this is scratching an itch, this is supposed to be fucking cardio and even though Connor’s heart rate is still steadily increasing, he’s not breathless like usual, he’s kissing Evan like he has all of the time in the world and being kissed back the exact same way, and it’s… oh. 

 

Connor doesn’t stand up and run this time. 

 

Instead, he breaks off the kiss enough to pull off Evan’s shirt, then kisses his way down his body, and takes Evan’s cock in his mouth. He focuses on making Evan gasp and react and say his name in a barely strangled moan and tries to ignore the fact that his mind is trying to piece something together, that it’s trying to tell him something, that it’s known this whole time and he’s just been kidding himself that…

 

Evan tugs on his hair and Connor lets out a gasp and Evan laughs a little and Connor thinks it’s a like a ray of sunshine and he doesn’t have time to process that before Evan’s sitting up and pulling him toward him and kissing him with urgency, then flipping him over and pinning him to the mattress. Evan presses a hot kiss on the back of his neck, then leans over to the bedside table and rummages around for condoms. 

 

He ends up having to open a new box, and Connor can’t help but laugh a little at Evan’s look of concentration as he tries to get the box open with his too-short nails. Connor takes it off him, gets in open in a matter of seconds then hands Evan a condom with a flourish, and Evan laughs and tells him he’s a dork and kisses him, kisses him hard, and Connor’s heart twists strangely in his chest and his mind is trying to tell him something. 

 

Then Evan’s stretching him open with lube slick fingers, telling him how hot he looks, and Connor tries to lose himself in the feeling of this, in the way Evan’s body feels against his, and the way Evan’s touching him it’s easy to let everything else go and just focus on how good it all feels. It’s not long before Evan’s fucking him, slow and steady, pressing hot kisses where his neck meets his shoulder. When Evan comes, Connor’s not far behind, with each other’s names on their lips, and that’s...

 

Once they’re done and they’ve cleaned up, they lie back down on the bed. Evan traces a lazy circle on Connor’s hip once, twice, three times, then buries his head in Connor’s neck and Connor can feel Evan’s breathing start to even out, and he must be tired, he must be drunk, because they don’t usually stay like this, they don’t usually end up like this, because Evan’s not a cuddler and sex usually leaves them exhausted but full of endorphins but this is… something else. 

 

This is warm and important and…

 

There’s a twist in Connor’s chest when he sees the way Gladys and Martha look at each other and it feels like what he’s feeling now, except a hundred times stronger, a hundred times worse, and the realization is hitting him like a bus with Alana Beck’s face on it, except it’s nowhere near as sudden because he thinks he might have known this all along. 

 

He thinks he might have been in love with Evan Hansen all along. 

 

And that’s…

 

Fuck. 

 

That’s not how this is supposed to go. 

 

That’s the exact opposite of how this is is supposed to go. 

 

They agreed, they talked about this, back when they decided that they could be friends and have regular sex and it would be fine, they’d just keep romance off the table, and it had made sense at the time because Connor’s never really had it any other way than just sex, any other way than just a physical connection paired with a vague fondness, but this is so much bigger and so much worse and they  _ talked _ about this, and the whole point was that it wasn’t supposed to involve feelings other than friendship, and…

 

Fuck. 

 

Connor’s heard Zoe tell him that he’s an idiot so many times, that he and Evan are clearly in love, and he’s been denying it for so long that it’s become automatic, and there is a huge part of him that’s more than a little pissed off that his sister was right this whole fucking time. 

 

And there is a hollow feeling in his stomach because his sister wasn’t right, his sister only has it half right. 

 

Connor’s in love with Evan. 

 

Evan’s not in love with Connor. 

 

He can’t be. He’s too careful with his heart, he’s too hesitant. He’s the one to remind Connor that they’re just friends, he’s the one to keep that distance between them, he’s the one who makes sure they don’t cross the line, and Connor thought he was okay with that, thought he appreciated the reminder because he doesn’t want to overstep, he doesn’t want to be that asshole who says stupid shit like “I love you” and shows up uninvited to birthday parties and makes wild fucking claims like “I’ll leave my husband for you” and…

 

“Your heart is beating really fast.”

 

Connor looks at Evan, who’s looking at him, his expression a little concerned. 

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, feeling lost. “Don’t know what that’s all about.” He pulls away enough to sit up. Rubs his face. “It’s, uh, it’s kind of hot. Red wine always kind of gets to me.”

 

“Lightweight,” says Evan, his voice teasing.

 

Connor rolls his eyes. “Most of the time when you and I drink together we’re on straight spirits,” he points out. “I’m as much of a lightweight as you are.” 

 

“We don’t usually do wine,” Evan concedes. He’s sitting up now, too. “It’s… yeah.”

 

“Maybe I should take a shower,” Connor announces, and stands up too fast and feels lightheaded and then Evan has his hand on his waist to steady him and the rock in Connor’s chest is sinking down, down, down, down to his feet.

 

Connor sits at the edge of his bed slowly and tries to pull himself together for a moment, because he’s hit with the realization that now that the way he really feels about Evan has made its way to the surface, he can’t ignore it any more. 

 

And now that the way he really feels about Evan has made its way to the surface, Connor is going to lose him. 

 

* * *

 

It honestly took Evan a couple of days to notice because he was genuinely, truly so swamped at work that was practically living out of his office. His mother called him on a Monday and he didn’t manage to get back to her until Thursday, and it was only partially because he tried to make a habit to check in with her once a week and it was usually after his standing therapy appointment.

He kept trying to drop that down to once every other week but Marcia expressed some concerns and Evan figured she probably knew best. She had the psych degree after all. 

But when Evan called his mom, she asked how Connor was doing and it occurred to Evan, suddenly, that he hadn’t heard from Connor since Saturday and he frowned, thinking that was really really weird to have not heard from him. 

“Connor’s pretty busy. I mean, he’s officially taking over the store as owner in like, a month, and I’m sure there’s a million things he needs to get settled before then…” Evan said but it felt weird to say, because, well. Connor was extremely prepared to take over The Little Book Nook. The deed to the building was set to transfer, his mortgage was established, all of the necessary licenses had been sent to the state and the city and Evan had personally notarized the contract with Connor’s main supplier (Connor had teased him about the notary stamp). In reality, Connor shouldn’t actually be terribly busy at all…

Evan tried not to dwell on it too much. He moved on to talk about other things with his mom, and when they hung up, he made a point to send Connor a text.  _ “Hey! Sorry I’ve been MIA all week, my boss is a tyrant even from his house in the Hamptons. Want to get dinner tomorrow?”  _

It took Connor over an hour to get back to him. _ “Sorry, I’m swamped. Raincheck?” _

Evan supposed he couldn’t fault Connor for being busy when it had taken him a week to realize they hadn’t really talked, so he let it go. Not a big deal.

Evan grabbed brunch with Mattie and Alex on Saturday morning before going in to finish up some briefs that afternoon. On Sunday, Sabrina and Evan facetimed to catch up while she was packing up her place. 

He kept busy, tried not to fixate on not hearing from Connor. He had a life. He had a business to run and a party to plan and a lot of stuff happening. Evan just needed to be patient, stop stressing about it. 

So he went back to work on Monday and tried not to obsess over not hearing back when he texted Connor, “How are you?” that morning. 

And when Thursday rolled around again and Evan still hadn’t heard from him, he sent a text asking if he was free for drinks on Saturday. 

_ “Sorry, I’ve got plans that night.” _

_ “Plans? Should I be jealous? Lol”  _

It wasn’t like Connor to be so vague. Or to be so unavailable.

_ “Ha, no, just meeting with an author we might have come in.” _

But by that Tuesday, with no additional contact despite several attempts on his end, Evan was starting to worry. Was something wrong? Did Connor need help with something? Was his mental health not good, was he angry at Evan about something?

Had he figured out that Evan was just super casually carrying around inappropriately squishy feelings for him and was he angry about it?

So Evan left work at a reasonable time for a change and decided he would stop by the bookstore on his way home. Just to check in, just to make sure that nothing had… happened or something. Someone would have told him by now if there was something wrong, if Connor was sick or hurt or something, but he wanted to see for himself. 

When he got to the store, Evan found Maureen behind the counter, reading a copy of The Hours and jotting notes in the margins. “Hey,” He said as warmly as he could manage. “Do you know if Connor’s around?”

“Ah, you just missed him. He’s having dinner with Martha and Gladys at their place tonight to hammer out any last minute details for the party.”

Evan nodded because, okay, that seemed reasonable and not like a story concocted at the last minute for the sole purpose of avoiding him so… that sort of helped. “Right, um, okay. I think I just…” He hadn’t prepared a reason for stopping by, so Evan started concocting a story on the spot. “It’s just I might have left my phone charger in his apartment? It’s not a big deal,  I’ll just text him to see if I can pick it up another time.”

Maureen looked confused. “How can you text him? Isn’t your phone dead?”

“What?”

“Wouldn’t your phone die without a charger?”

“Oh, right, duh, that’s… I mean, fair point, I just. Uh, I mean… I have another charger, I just keep it at work and I left my home charger here… It’s not important, I can probably just go buy a new charger anyway, just will you let Connor know I dropped by?”

“Sure,” Maureen said, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I’ll tell him.”

“Great. Thanks. Bye.”

Well. Fuck. 

Almost a full three weeks had passed before Evan heard anything from Connor that wasn’t just a reply to Evan’s own messages, and he was so startled to get a text from him after basically radio silence for most of July that he opened it in the middle of a meeting with a client. He hoped to get an explanation, an apology, even an offer to hang out sometime soon but instead it was… 

An invite to the party. A group text, inviting Evan to a party he had thought Connor had already invited him to attend. His heart sank. 

Evan texted him separately, after his meeting, to say of course he would be at the party, and how was Connor doing, did he need any help now that he was in the homestretch?

All he got in return was,  _ “Great! See you then!” _

So Evan went home, feeling very confused and a bit hurt and found Mattie eating out of a carton of ice cream and watching an old episode of Grey’s Anatomy, crying. 

“Who died?” Evan asked. 

“Ellis,” Mattie said, not even bothering to pause or wipe her face. “Meredith almost drowned and then Cristina told her she was engaged to Burke…”

Evan swallowed hard thinking about the episode. He usually avoided the episodes where they dealt with Meredith’s suicidality. It hit a little too close to home. But since it was basically the end of the episode, the happy ending, he sat down with Mattie. She offered her spoon to him, saying she had accidentally bought dairy free Ben and Jerry’s, so Evan ate a spoonful and handed it back while episode came to its conclusion. The dairy free version was never quite as good as the dairy stuff, but he appreciated that he wouldn’t have an upset stomach later.

“You look glum, sugar plum,” Mattie said, hitting pause on Netflix before the next episode could start.

“I think Connor’s avoiding me,” He explained, stealing back the spoon. 

“How come?”

“I haven’t seen him in weeks and he sent me a group text about this party they are throwing to celebrate him taking over the bookstore as the owner.” 

“A group text?” Mattie wrinkled her nose.

“Exactly.” He stabbed the spoon into the ice cream a bit too violently. “What the fuck is that about?”

“I’m sure he’s just busy?” She offered. 

“You’re probably right,” Evan said, frowning, trying to think this through like a logical adult and not someone who worried all of the time that he was too annoying to be allowed in polite society. “I just. I dunno. Something feels off and I don’t know what it is.”

 

* * *

 

Connor’s at a bar with his sister on a Thursday night, a few days before Gladys and Martha throw a party to officially hand over ownership of The Little Book Nook, and he feels like his phone is burning a hole in his pocket. 

 

He’s been avoiding Evan for weeks now and it feels completely wrong to not be checking in with him, not be messaging him daily and talking about nothing and everything, but he knows he has to keep his distance. 

 

How he feels about Evan is too close to the surface. There’s no way that if he saw him, it wouldn’t come spilling out, and everything would be ruined. 

 

He’s got to get himself under control. 

 

“Connor. Where are you?”

 

He looks at his sister and blinks. “At a bar with you. Obviously.”

 

Zoe raises her eyebrows. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure you’re a million miles away. What’s going on?”

 

Connor sighs. “Well, I’ll officially own a business in, like, two days, so that’s kind of on my mind.” 

 

_ I’m hoping I won’t have to declare bankruptcy before I’m thirty,  _ he doesn’t say. 

 

Zoe pats his arm comfortingly. “Dude, you’re ready. You’re so ready. You and Evan have gone through all the legal stuff, you’ve been shadowing Gladys for over a year - you’ve got this. You’ve completely got this.”

 

“Right,” says Connor with a nod. He tries to smile. “I’m just nervous. It’s fine. Sorry for being weird.”

 

“You’re allowed to be nervous,” Zoe assures him. “It’s a big thing.”

 

Zoe orders another round of drinks and they sit quietly for a moment. Zoe breaks the silence after a while. “How’s Evan?”

 

Connor can’t help it. He feels his face fall. 

 

Zoe notices. She frowns. “Is he okay? What’s going on?”

 

“We haven’t spoken in a while,” Connor says quietly. 

 

Zoe’s frown deepens. “Is he okay? I know he had a rough time last year, are things… is he okay?”

 

“I think he’s okay,” Connor says, looking at his drink. “I hope so. I…” He takes a deep breath and pointedly doesn’t look at his sister. “I’ve been avoiding him.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

Connor shakes his head. “I just… I don’t want to talk to him because I’ll tell him and it’ll ruin everything.”

 

Zoe grabs his arm again, tighter this time. Connor looks up to see that Zoe looks extremely concerned. “Connor. What’s going on?”

 

“I’m in love with Evan,” he blurts out. 

 

Zoe just stares at him for a moment. “No fucking shit.”

 

Connor groans. “Please… please don’t.”

 

“You’re in love with him, he’s in love with you.” Zoe rolls her eyes. “It’s good you’ve finally figured it out.”

 

“No, it’s not,” Connor tries to explain. “He’s… he’s not in love with me, Zo. He can’t be. He’s… he’s always the one to remind me that we’re just friends, that it’s just… that it’s just sex, that he’s not my boyfriend. He doesn’t see me as anything other than a friend and a fuckbuddy and I… it was fine, it was all fine and I fucked it up.”

 

_ And if I fucked this up, then what am I going to fuck up next?  _ he doesn’t say. 

 

Zoe looks incredulous. “Connor. You don’t know that he doesn’t feel the same way about you.”

 

“Yes I do.”

 

“Have you asked him?”

 

“I don’t have to. He doesn’t.”

 

Zoe sighs, and she’s obviously frustrated. “Connor. Come on.”

 

“He doesn’t,” he snaps. “I know he doesn’t, and I can’t… look, I just need to get through this stupid opening party and get through the first month of owning a business without running it into the ground and then maybe, maybe I can find some time to deal with crushing heartbreak, okay?” 

 

“You should tell him how you feel,” Zoe insists. “You… you don’t know until you tell him.”

 

Connor opens his mouth to argue with his sister, then closes it, because what would be the point? He can sit here in this bar and argue with Zoe all he likes. It’s not going to change anything. “Not right now,” he says finally. 

 

Zoe frowns. “I think you’re making a mistake,” she says bluntly. “You’re… if you’re putting this off, you’re just wasting time. Wasting time you could be happy.”

 

_ You do realize that you’re wasting your time, right? _

 

“Yeah, well,” Connor says after a moment. “It’s my time to waste.”

 

Zoe looks at him, her expression troubled. “You’re an idiot,” she says frankly, and Connor can’t bring himself to disagree. 


	18. August, Part I (One Year and Six Months Later)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why are my shoes in the freezer?"

Connor’s never going to be someone who’s completely comfortable with the whole ‘networking’ thing, but he has to admit it’s not that bad when he’s on his own turf.

 

The Little Book Nook is now officially his turf.

 

It’s all signed and sealed and official and his trust fund has taken a serious hit but he’s now officially someone who owns fucking property.

 

Who owns a bookstore, and an apartment over it.

 

It’s incredibly surreal.

 

He’s thought about this so much and tried to picture what it would feel like and now that it’s here, it’s almost too big to comprehend.

 

But he’s done it. He’s here.

 

Despite everything, Connor had made the effort to invite his dad along to the opening. He’d received a response from his assistant saying he wouldn’t make it but wishing him luck, and Connor’s, like, ninety percent that the words “good luck” weren’t actually Larry’s, his assistant had just put them there to soften the whole thing.

 

Connor doesn’t want his dad here if he doesn’t want to be here, sure, but he has to admit there’s a part of him that kind of wishes he were here, just so he could say ‘fuck you, I did it’.

 

Gladys and Martha are talking to Marco, one of their regular book suppliers, and there are a couple of people he doesn’t recognize, but mostly the room is full of familiar faces. His mom is in the corner, talking with Caroline, who’s Connor’s go-to supplier for foreign literature, and they seem to be getting along.

 

Over by the travel section, Andre is in an animated discussion about something with Leslie and Maureen (Connor suspects it’s probably Tolstoy), Dave and Mikhail are looking at one of the displays and Zoe is talking to Evan.

 

Well, from the looks of it, Evan is talking to Zoe, and he’s waving his hand around to make his point, and he’s holding a glass of what looks like rum, and Connor can’t help but think that he’s adorable when he’s passionate about something.

 

This is not helping his current project, which is basically ‘bury your feelings for your best friend slash fuck buddy so deep that archaeologists won’t find them for centuries’.

 

Connor decides it’s probably safer to head toward Leslie, Andre and Maureen, but as he does he passes Zoe and Evan and Zoe reaches out to grab his arm and it would be rude to just keep going so he stops to talk to them, just for a moment.

 

Evan stops mid-sentence and flashes Connor a smile so bright that it makes the sun look dull.

 

“Congratulations again,” says Zoe, and Connor has to genuinely make an effort to tear his gaze away from Evan to look at his sister. “How does it feel to finally own the place?”

 

“It hasn’t sunk in yet,” Connor says honestly. “It’s just… it feels like it can’t be real, you know?”

 

“You’ve put in so much work,” says Evan, and there is so much affection and pride in his voice that it makes something inside Connor’s chest physically ache. Then Evan’s reaching out and putting his hand on Connor’s arm and the touch goes right to his core and Evan’s still smiling so brightly, his face is open and warm and so different to how he usually holds himself at a distance in public, and…

 

It dawns on Connor that Evan’s drunk.

 

Not, like, sloppy embarrassing drunk, but sweet affectionate drunk, and…

 

This is definitely not going to help Connor in his quest to not be in love with him.

 

“You’re one to talk,” Connor finds himself saying, returning the smile because he can’t not. “You gave me so much free legal help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

 

 _$70,000 worth of legal help_ , he thinks but doesn’t say.

 

Evan actually snorts at that. “Sure you could have,” he says earnestly. “You’re incredible. You’re so smart and so driven and you’re following your dream and it’s amazing, it’s so amazing to watch. You can do anything. You could go to the moon if you wanted to.”

 

“I’m going to go talk to Mom,” Zoe announces, and before Connor can say anything it’s just him and Evan, and this is definitely not helping Connor tamp down these annoying feelings, and…

 

“I’ve really missed you,” Evan says, his voice soft. “We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

 

 _That’s because I’ve been avoiding you because I’m in love with you and you can’t possibly be in love with me,_ Connor thinks but doesn’t say.

 

“It’s been crazy getting everything ready with the store,” Connor says, his tone apologetic. “I’ve been super busy.”

 

“But you did it,” says Evan, and he’s putting his arm on Connor’s shoulder now, and Connor’s trying not to react too intensely because he can feel it all the way through him and This Is Not Helping, but Evan’s face is so warm and open and proud that there’s no way Connor’s going to pull away.

 

He doesn’t think he could if he tried.

 

“I’m really, really proud of you,” says Evan, and fuck, Connor feels that even more intensely than Evan’s hand on his shoulder, and there’s so much warmth and light in Evan’s face right now and Connor wishes he always looked this happy, he always looked this relaxed, he always looked at Connor like just seeing him made him feel…

 

 _You’re projecting,_ Connor tells himself firmly. _You’re projecting how you feel about him, and he’s drunk, and you’re an asshole._

 

“Shall we get something to eat?” Connor suggests. “Gladys ordered a bunch of really tiny sandwiches and they’re fucking ridiculous but they’re actually pretty good.”

 

Evan nods agreeably, like Connor’s making an excellent point, and they head to the table of food, and there are plates with little labels on them, and Connor’s reading the labels quickly when he hears Evan let out a happy little gasp. He looks at Evan to see that he’s gesturing to a label next to a plate.

 

“The label says it’s kosher,” says Evan, and he’s beaming now. “That’s… Martha and Gladys aren’t Jewish.”

 

“No,” Connor says, “but you are.” He’d made sure that Martha and Gladys knew for the catering, because even though Evan’s not always the strictest when it comes to keeping kosher, he does try and Connor always wants to make sure that he’s never in a situation where he doesn’t have a choice, because that’s just shitty for anyone who has food restrictions, and it’s got nothing to do with the fact that Connor would basically do anything for Evan.

 

Evan grabs Connor’s hand and squeezes it tightly. “You’re so good,” says Evan, and then he honest to fuck leans his head against Connor’s shoulder and if it weren’t for the fact that Connor knows exactly what it feels like to die, he’d be convinced that he was dying right now. “You’re just… you’re so awesome, Connor, you’re so fucking great.”

 

Connor is saved from the sudden urge to just blurt out how amazing he thinks Evan is by Marco calling his name. He’s headed toward the snack table and he offers Connor a handshake as he gets close enough.

 

“Congratulations,” he says, his voice warm. “I imagine this all feels a little weird, huh?”

 

“Definitely,” Connor agrees, trying to focus on Marco, who is an important part of keeping his business running, and not Evan who is still holding his other hand even though he is making short work of whatever the kosher snack actually is. “But I’m feeling good about it.”

 

Marco smiles. “As you should,” he says, and he sounds genuinely happy. “I’ve been working with Gladys and Martha for the last decade, so it’s a bit sad to see them go, but working with you all of you for the last year has made it such a smooth transition.”

 

“I’m really glad we did things the way we did,” Connor says, nodding. “I know how much this place means to the people, and I didn’t want there to be too many bumps. Obviously it’s a change, but… I think it’s a good one.”

 

“Connor’s amazing,” Evan pipes up, and he’s leaning against Connor’s shoulder again. “He’s just so passionate about this place and making it a safe space for the community, especially for queer youth, and he’s worked so hard. He’s just… he’s only twenty-eight and he owns his own bookstore, he’s following his dreams, and that’s not something everyone can do, you know?”

 

“I know,” says Marco, smiling at Connor. It looks like he’s about to say something, so Connor jumps in before Marco can get the wrong idea.

 

“Marco, this is my friend Evan,” he says, and Evan grins and shakes Marco’s hand, and Marco gives Connor a knowing look, and no one says anything about the fact that Evan’s pressed up against Connor and that to anyone looking at them, ‘friend’ isn’t probably the word they’d use to describe their relationship.

 

Evan’s drunk, Connor reminds himself. He’s drunk and affectionate and he’s your friend and he cares about you, but he doesn’t love you the way you love him, so don’t get any dumb ideas.

 

“It’s great to meet you,” says Marco.

 

“You’re the store’s main supplier, right?” Evan asks, and Connor’s kind of stunned that Evan actually remembers this.

 

“That’s right,” says Marco. It looks like he’s remembering something. “I think we had a phone discussion about supply contracts a while ago. You’re Connor’s legal counsel, isn’t that right?”

 

“Yes, I am,” Evan says with a sunny smile. “I’m an environmental lawyer, so it’s not my usual field, but obviously I’m happy to help out a friend.”

 

He smiles at Connor and Connor tries to reconcile the warm feeling of Evan’s smile directed at him with the barb of the word ‘friend’.

 

“I’m just going to grab a drink,” he says, trying to smile at both Evan and Marco. “Excuse me.”

 

Connor heads off before either of them can say anything, trying not to rush too quickly, and heads to where there’s a makeshift bar set up near the non-fiction section. There’s a young-looking guy with a septum piercing and an undercut manning the bar, and he smiles at Connor. “What can I get you?” he asks.

 

“Whisky,” he says, then realizes he’s being rude, and tacks on a “please” so he doesn’t look like a total asshole.

 

The guy nods, then bends down and pulls out a bottle of 25 year old Chivas. He grins at Connor conspiratorially. “I was told that I needed to bring out the big guns for you,” he says. “Congratulations on owning a bookstore, man.”

 

“Thanks,” Connor replies, and he’s genuinely smiling now, because he actually owns a fucking bookstore and he still can’t quite believe it. “It’s, uh, it’s pretty surreal.”

 

“I can imagine,” the bartender says. “It’s impressive. You must be, what, late twenties?”

 

“Twenty-eight,” Connor confirms. “Yeah.” He smiles a little guiltily. “Full disclosure - I have rich parents and a pretty healthy trust fund.” He pauses. “Well, it was pretty healthy before I bought a fucking bookstore.”

 

“Ah,” says the bartender, nodding like it makes sense.

 

“I know that not everyone has the advantages I do,” Connor feels compelled to say. “Like, not everyone my age can do this, you know? So I want to make sure that I, you know, take that seriously and keep this place going.”

 

The bartender smiles. “I’ve never been here before,” he confesses, “but when I was talking to Gladys and Martha earlier, they were telling me about some of the history, and it’s pretty cool.” He nods. “As a gay man, I can definitely appreciate how it’s been this, like, historic cornerstone for the queer community.”

 

“Exactly,” says Connor, warming to the subject. “They were telling me how in the late nineties, it was open a lot later at night so that there was a safe space for the queer community, and I think that’s amazing. It’s something I really want to work toward eventually, because I think it’s important to have spaces other than bars, you know?”

 

“Absolutely,” says the bartender. “Although, I guess that I’m glad there are bars, because they keep me employed.”

 

“Of course,” says Connor, feeling like a bit of an idiot. “Sorry.”

 

“No worries,” says the bartender. He smiles, a little shyly. “I’m Zak, by the way.”

 

“Connor.”

 

“I know,” says Zak, then his cheeks turn a little pink, and Connor thinks it’s kind of cute. “I  mean, Gladys and Martha told me, and told me what you looked like so I knew to give you the fancy whiskey, so…”

 

“So, you bartend nearby?” Connor asks, because he may as well keep talking to this hot bartender in the desperate hope that it’ll distract him from his stupid romantic feelings for his best friend.

 

“I do, yeah,” says Zak. “I work at Indigo which is about four blocks from here.”

 

“I’ve heard of it, yeah.”

 

“My boss knows Gladys and Martha,” Zak explains, “and suggested me for this party, which was cool of him. It’s nice to be doing something a little bit different, and they’re paying me well.”

 

“Good,” says Connor with a smile. “I’m glad it’s been worth your while.”

 

“Definitely,” says Zak, his smile widening. “You should come to Indigo sometime. We don’t have the fancy 25 year old whisky but I’m pretty sure I could whip you up a cocktail you’d like. On the house.”

 

Connor’s about to reply when he feels an arm around his waist, and there’s Evan, leaning against his shoulder again. “The kosher snacks are awesome,” Evan announces. “I don’t know what they are, but I ate five.”

 

Something shifts in Zak’s expression and Connor comes to the realization that a. Evan’s just cockblocked him, even though he probably doesn’t realize it and b. Connor doesn’t actually mind.

 

Which is…

 

Not good.

 

He is Not Good at this whole not being in love with Evan thing.

 

“Can I get you anything?” Zak asks, and his voice is a little less warm than it was when he was talking to Connor but still friendly and professional. More than anything, he looks a little embarrassed, but he’s recovered quickly, and Connor feels like a bit of a dick because it probably looks like he was leading him on, and he’s never wanted to be the kind of person who does that.

 

“Rum,” says Evan immediately. Then he looks a little embarrassed. “Please.”

 

“Oh hey,” says Connor before Zak can go to make Evan’s drink, “Gladys and Martha got a bottle of the 25 year old Chivas if you want some of that.”

 

“Actually, yeah,” says Evan, smiling at Connor. “I’m always here for your pretentious asshole whisky.”

 

Connor laughs, and Zak looks at the two of them and smiles, and it’s a smile that Connor recognizes as that smile that you get when you’re queer and you see a happy looking queer couple, and Connor feels like he should explain that they’re just friends, but god help him, he doesn’t think he can choke out those words today because they’ll hurt too much.

 

He and Evan both end up with a couple of glasses of the 25 year old whisky and chat for a bit with Zak, who it turns out is starting his Masters in nonprofit management in September. Evan’s got a lot of questions about it and it turns out that there’s some kind of environmental nonprofit they’ve both worked with tangentially, and Evan just looks so fucking beautiful when he’s talking about something he cares about and Connor’s completely fucked, he’s completely and utterly fucked, and he’s going to have to figure this out eventually but right now he’s going to keep being a fucking asshole and letting Evan keep his hand on his waist, even though he’s only doing it because he’s drunk.

 

As the evening keeps going, Connor’s trapped between wanting to keep an eye on Evan because he’s drunker than he usually lets himself be in public and wanting to stay as far away as possible because drunk Evan is sweet and affectionate and likes to tell him he’s amazing in this soft, warm voice that makes Connor want to kiss him. As Evan starts getting into a spirited discussion with Leslie and Maureen about how the Brontes are underappreciated, Connor slips away to find Zoe.

 

Zoe’s not currently talking to someone, she’s just looking around the bookstore with a soft smile, and it dawns on Connor that she hasn’t actually spent all that much time here.

 

“Congratulations,” she says as he approaches.

 

“You’ve said that a few times now.”

 

Zoe grins. “Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” She shakes her head a little. “I’m just… I’m just really proud of you, I know it’s fucking cheesy but this is just… it’s really good for you. You seem so happy.”

 

“I am,” Connor assures her, even though right now it’s a whirlwind of mixed emotions that he’s not sure he can untangle. “Can you, uh, can you do me a favor?”

 

Zoe’s expression shifts. “You want me to run interference with Evan.”

 

Connor sighs. “Kinda. Yes. Can you?”

 

“He talked to me for a full fifteen minutes about sustainable farming,” Zoe says with a roll of her eyes.

 

“Yeah, well, he has a lot of opinions about sustainable farming.”

 

“He only started talking about sustainable farming after he told me how amazing you were seven times in a row,” Zoe says, raising her eyebrows. “And he’s been following you around like a puppy all evening. Have you considered that-”

 

“He’s drunk,” Connor interrupts. “He’s drunk, and he’s affectionate, and-”

 

“You don’t see the way he looks at you, Connor.”

 

Connor shakes his head, because he’s not getting into this conversation again. They’ve had this conversation before, he and Zoe, and he can’t get into it again, because he’s not exactly sober himself and the last thing he wants is to have a complete emotional meltdown on a night that’s supposed to be celebrating that after all his hard work, The Little Book Nook is finally properly his, and it’s exhausting going over and over this.

 

It’s exhausting because no matter what way he slices it, he knows that at the end of the day, Evan has been clear from the beginning.

 

“I’m going to talk to Mom,” Connor announces. “If you could just… make sure he eats something? Or get him some water from upstairs if you need to?”

 

“Fine,” says Zoe after a moment. “But for the record, I still think you’re an idiot.”

 

“You’ve thought I was an idiot for a couple of decades now,” Connor says drily. “This isn’t new information.”

 

Connor throws himself into being a good sort-of host for the rest of the evening, floating between groups of people who all congratulate him on making the store ownership official. He talks with Gladys and Martha, who’re both enjoying a sit down in the sunshine spot, and meets some of their friends, who it turns out helped them with buying the store back when they first opened. It’s nice, hearing stories about how the store began, and he’s filing away the information for future reference.

 

He talks to Dave and Mikhail, who are both congratulatory and full of ideas as to how The Little Book Nook can promote Leatherbird’s publications. Connor makes a note to organize a meeting later in the year, once he’s got into the swing of things. He ends up in an interesting conversation with his mom and Caroline, his foreign language book supplier, about French literature, and tries to ignore the fact that he’s pretty sure Caroline is hitting on his mother and from the looks of things, Cynthia doesn’t mind.

 

Before the evening winds down, Gladys and Martha take a moment to toast to the success of The Little Book Nook and its new ownership, and the room erupts in applause and Connor feels weird that everyone’s looking at him but he’s so proud, he’s so fucking proud because for the longest time, he thought he’d never amount to anything, he thought he’d never have something like this, he thought that he didn’t deserve the things he wanted, and now one of his dreams is coming true and…

 

Maybe he does deserve the things he wants, after all.

 

Maybe it’s okay to want something.

 

Maybe his dad was wrong when he said Connor couldn’t do this.

 

It doesn’t take long for everyone to clear out, congratulating Connor as they leave. The caterers and Zak make quick work of packing away the leftover food and booze, which apparently Gladys and Martha have decided Connor is keeping. He argues with them for a moment, trying to insist they take something, but they just laugh and shake their heads.

 

“This party was for you,” Martha says firmly. “Which means the leftovers are for you, too.” She turns to Zak. “Would you be able to help Connor take everything up to his apartment?”

 

“No problem,” says Zak easily, and pretty soon his kitchen is full of food and alcohol, the bookstore’s clean and ready for the next working day (which isn’t until Monday, they’d decided to keep the store closed the next day given that all of the staff were likely to be hungover tomorrow) and he’s saying his final goodbyes to Gladys and Martha.

 

“Well,” says Gladys matter-of-factly, “I think that all went very well.”

 

“Think I’ll be okay on my own?” Connor asks, only half joking.

 

“Not a doubt in my mind,” says Gladys, and Martha nods in agreement.

 

He helps the two of them into a taxi outside, and the caterers and Zak all say goodbye, and then it’s just him, alone in his bookstore.

 

His bookstore.

 

He takes a moment to let it all soak in and smiles.

 

Connor locks the front door and heads upstairs. He can hear voices and he’s confused for a moment but quickly realizes what’s going on.

 

Evan’s sitting at his kitchen table, finishing up the last of the kosher snacks. Zoe’s putting on her jacket and heading toward the door to the staircase.

 

“You’re leaving?” Connor asks, a little stupidly.

 

“Yep,” she says with a nod. “Congratulations again.”

 

With that, Zoe’s headed down the stairs and out the front door of the store. Connor follows her to lock up behind her, half-hoping he can convince her to stay so he doesn’t have to face Evan on his own, but she’s in a taxi before he can say anything.

 

He locks the front door one more time and heads upstairs.

 

“There’s a lot of alcohol here,” Evan says, grinning at Connor. “We could keep drinking?”

 

“I think that’s probably a bad plan,” Connor says. He’s feeling pretty sober now, but Evan still looks like he’s definitely drunk. “Do you need me to get you a Lyft home?”

 

“Can I crash here?” Evan asks immediately, and Connor wants to say no, but he can tell that Evan’s drunk enough that the responsible thing to do is let him stay.

 

“Okay,” says Connor, nodding. The air around them in humming and he feels on edge, he feels this weird nervous energy, and it’s messing with his head more than the whisky.

 

Evan stands up, a little hesitantly. He’s swaying on his feet and he’s definitely still drunk but he walks toward Connor determinedly and wraps his arms around his waist.

 

It takes everything Connor has not to immediately melt into his embrace. He tries to hold himself back, just a little.

 

“You did it,” Evan says, and his voice is soft and Connor’s heart is twisting around inside his chest.

 

“Yeah,” he says, his throat dry. “You helped me do it.”

 

Evan shakes his head. “ _You_ did it.”

 

Connor can’t stop himself from continuing. “All the legal stuff? I didn’t even know where to start. You helped me make this happen, Evan. You… thank you.”

 

“Of course I helped you,” Evan says, like it’s completely obvious, like there’s no universe in which he wouldn’t have helped Connor, wouldn’t have given Connor seventy-thousand fucking dollars worth of legal help without asking for anything in return, and Connor has got to pull away, he has got to put more space between them, but Evan’s holding him and Connor is an asshole for letting him. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t even a question that I’d help you, Connor, you… you saved my life.”

 

“And you saved mine,” Connor says gently.

 

And then Evan’s kissing him, and he tastes like rum and whisky and whatever the hell it was that was in the kosher appetizer thing and Connor should be stopping this, he’s the sober one, he’s the one who knows what he’s doing right now, and…

 

Evan’s hands start unbuttoning his shirt.

 

And Connor pulls away. “Let’s get you to bed,” he says firmly.

 

“Are you coming with me?” Evan asks, his voice teasing.

 

Connor shakes his head. “I’ve, uh, I’ve got some things I need to do,” he says.

 

Evan pouts. Like genuinely, properly pouts.

 

It is so fucking adorable it’s not fair.

 

“It’s hot,” Evan says, and he’s frowning a little. “It’s really hot.”

 

Connor nods. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

 

Evan rolls his eyes. “Zoe made me drink, like, three glasses of water. That’s practically an ocean, Connor.” He looks at his stomach and pokes it. “My stomach is an ocean now.”

 

Connor tries to laugh. “You’re so drunk, oh my god.”

 

“My feet are hot,” Evan grumbles, and then he’s taking off his shoes, and Connor grabs his arm to steady him because he looks like he’s about to fall over. “That’s the worst thing about summer. You get so hot. And your feet get hot because I have to wear nice shoes because I’m a lawyer and lawyers wear… nice shoes.”

 

They are indeed nice shoes. Evan’s in a suit, which isn’t really that unusual - he’s a lawyer, he’s in a suit all the time - and he looks really, really good in it. It’s a navy blue suit that Connor’s always really liked seeing him in, and he’s wearing this maroon tie that Connor remembers him wearing one time when he came to visit Connor just after he moved into this apartment and Connor had used the tie to pull Evan in close for a kiss and…

 

Connor is really, really fucking this up tonight.

 

“I’m going to find you something to wear,” Connor says once Evan’s got his shoes off. He heads into his bedroom, goes to his dresser and pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that Evan left at his place one time, a t-shirt that pretty much lives here now, and for nearly a year there’s been one of Evan’s t-shirt’s at his apartment all the time, and maybe Connor needs to do something about this, maybe he needs to give him back his t-shirt, and the grey suit that’s in Connor’s closet from the time Evan stayed over after a particularly grueling late night at work because it was a Friday and Connor’s apartment was closer to Evan’s work and he’d gone home in sweatpants and a t-shirt of Connor’s that now lives at Evan’s apartment, and...

 

He can’t think about this right now.

 

There’s something heavy and hollow inside his chest.

 

He turns to go back to the kitchen but Evan’s in the doorway, and he’s undoing his tie and walking toward Connor and he puts the tie on top of Connor’s dresser and takes off his suit jacket and starts to unbuckle his belt and he’s looking at Connor the whole time, and Connor’s hit with the memory of Evan taking off his clothes and looking at him like this in a very different context, and…

 

“I’ll just give you a moment,” says Connor, handing Evan the t-shirt and sweats and trying to head for the door but failing.

 

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” says Evan with an exaggerated eye roll. Then he looks at Connor seriously. “I figured out how to fix my hot feet.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

“I put my shoes in the freezer,” Evan continues, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

 

Connor should head to the door, he really should, but he’s not moving and Evan’s taking off his shirt now and Connor is an asshole, he’s a complete fucking asshole, because Evan doesn’t know that Connor broke the rules, Evan doesn’t know that Connor…

 

“Why have you been avoiding me, Connor?”

 

Connor stares for a moment. “I’ve been busy with the store.”

 

Evan’s frowning now, and he looks… hurt. “Did I do something wrong?”

 

“No! Fuck, no, you didn’t… I’m sorry.”

 

“I missed you,” Evan says sadly, and Connor feels that like a stab to the kidneys, and there’s a part of him that genuinely wants to cry, but he can’t do that because this isn’t Evan’s fault, he can’t put this on him, he can’t do that to him.

 

“I missed you, too,” Connor confesses, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

 

Evan puts on the t-shirt and the sweatpants clumsily, and moves toward Connor, and he’s going to kiss him again and if he kisses him again Connor is going to dissolve and he can’t let that happen.

 

Connor steps back.

 

Evan’s face falls.

 

“I need to finish up some things,” Connor says quickly. He gestures to the bed. “Get some sleep, okay? You… I’ll get you some water and some painkillers for the morning.”

 

“You’re not staying?”

 

“I need to finish up some things,” Connor repeats, and he leaves the room before he can change his mind.

 

He locks himself in the bathroom and looks at his reflection in the mirror.

 

Then he picks up his toothbrush, and realizes that there are two toothbrushes in the cup next to the faucet because Evan takes dental health very seriously so Connor had picked up an extra toothbrush for when he was here and his eyes are stinging and his face feels hot and instead of brushing his teeth, he ties back his hair and washes his face and pretends he’s not crying.

 

When he’s finally got himself under control, he takes some painkillers from the bathroom cabinet, then goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Quietly, carefully, he goes back into his bedroom and listens.

 

Evan’s snoring.

 

Connor puts the glass of water and the painkillers on the bedside table on the side of the bed Evan’s sleeping on, the side that has become Evan’s, then gets changed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt as quickly as he can and heads for the living room, intending to sleep on the sofa.

 

His two-seater sofa is far too small for him to sleep on comfortably, but even if it were comfortable, Connor doesn’t think he’d have slept well tonight anyway.

 

There’s too much going on in his head.

 

At some point he must have slept, because when he opens his eyes next it’s light, and he hasn’t shut the curtains and he doesn’t think he’ll get back to sleep, so he gets up, goes to the bathroom and then heads to the kitchen and just… sits for a while.

 

He gets up to make some coffee and while he’s boiling hot water, he hears the sound of a door softly closing and his stomach clenches violently. There’s the sound of the toilet flushing and the sink running quickly and then the door closing again and Connor just concentrates on making coffee.

 

He pulls out one of those reusable coffee cups because if he knows Evan, he’s not going to be here for much longer.

 

The least Connor can do is give him coffee for the road.

 

“Hey.”

 

Connor pours coffee into a mug for himself and a reusable cup for Evan, then turns to face him. Evan looks tired and pale and hungover but mostly just… embarrassed. Like, properly mortified.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Evan says in a rush. “I drank way too much last night, and I completely embarrassed myself, and-”

 

“You were right,” Connor says, because he’s tired and he’s worn out and he can’t control himself. “I have been avoiding you. And I’m sorry.”

 

Evan stops. Stares at him for a moment. “Why?”

 

Connor rubs his face. “I fucked up. I fucked it up and I’m really sorry.”

 

“You didn’t fuck up anything,” Evan says, and he looks confused. “The store’s amazing, you’re doing amazingly, you… you know exactly what you’re doing, it’s going to be great, you’re going to be amazing-”

 

“I’m not talking about the store,” Connor interrupts. “I’m talking about… this. Me and you. We agreed that we were just friends and it was just sex, it was… it was fucking cardio, and that’s how it started but I fucked it up and I’m really sorry.”

 

Evan just looks… stunned. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says, his tone a little desperate. “I don’t… what are you talking about?”

 

“I’m in love with you,” Connor blurts out. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

 

Evan blinks. “What do you… why are you _apologizing_?”

 

“Because you made it clear that it’s not… it’s not like that for you,” Connor tries to explain, trying to keep it together because half of him is afraid he’s going to burst into tears but the other half is beyond tired, beyond exhausted, and is just… kind of blank, really. Almost calm. “I just… it was supposed to be just sex with my best friend who’s really hot and I broke the rules and I’m sorry, this is on me and I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry because I know that this sucks, I remember when Richard was all ‘I love you’ when it was just sex and that guy’s human fucking garbage and now I’m doing the exact same fucking thing and-”

 

“You’re nothing like Richard,” Evan interrupts. He still looks completely stunned.

 

“I don’t want to be,” Connor replies, and he’s so tired. “You don’t have to… me being in love with you is not your problem, you know? I’m not going to, like, make it your problem. I just… I just figured you should know because I figured it out after the last time we had sex and then having the idea of sex with you again when I’d broken the rules felt wrong, like I was… like you didn’t have all the information and it was… false pretences or whatever.” He rubs his face. “I just… it seemed wrong. So I avoided you and I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re in love with me,” Evan says, his tone even and completely neutral and it’s like he’s stating some kind of lawyer fact and there’s something weirdly fitting about that.

 

“Yeah,” says Connor. He goes to the fridge and pulls out a carton of almond milk, which he hasn’t opened so it hasn’t had time to go off because he doesn’t actually drink it but Evan does and he’s just… kept it unopened in his fridge for a month like some kind of psycho. He opens it, pours some milk into the reusable coffee cup and stirs it.

 

He hasn’t bought regular milk, so he puts some almond milk in his own cup as well.

 

Evan clears his throat. “I…”

 

Evan stops.

 

Looks at Connor for a long moment.

 

Connor can’t figure out what Evan’s thinking. Whatever’s going on, Evan’s trying to figure it out in his head, and he’s in his head and he’s frowning, but Connor knows that that doesn’t mean he’s angry, necessarily, it just means he’s… he’s confused, he’s trying to figure things out, and he’s clearly hungover and tired and Connor’s an asshole.

 

He’s just blurted this all out, laid this all out first thing in the morning when Evan’s hungover and tired and doesn’t need this shit, Connor’s a selfish asshole for having said anything.

 

“I made coffee,” Connor says finally. “I, uh, I made yours in a reusable coffee cup because I figured you’d want to just go and I’m sorry, it was selfish of me to just dump this on you and… you can keep the cup if you want, you don’t have to worry about giving it back, I bought a couple a while back because you went on that rant about reusable coffee cups and a lot of places give you a discount if you bring your own cup, which is really good because I just bought a bookstore so saving money is definitely a thing I want to do, you know?”

 

Evan’s still just standing there.

 

Connor remembers something.

 

He goes to the freezer and pulls out Evan’s shoes.

 

Evan just looks even more confused now. “Why were my shoes in the freezer?”

 

“You said your feet were hot,” Connor explains. He hands Evan the shoes, and Evan looks at them, a little lost.

 

Evan sits down at the kitchen table and puts on his shoes.

 

Connor picks up the reusable coffee cup and puts it on the table in front of Evan. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I-”

 

“Stop apologizing,” Evan interrupts sharply.

 

Connor pulls back quickly. He wants to apologize again, all he can think of is how sorry he is, because without sorry, he has nothing to say.

 

He’s laid all his cards on the table.

 

Evan’s putting on his frozen shoes and Connor realizes then and there that he can’t actually watch Evan walk out of his apartment, he can’t handle seeing him physically leave when it’s probably the last time he’s going to see him and he’s fucked all of it up, he’s ruined the best friendship he’s ever had because of his stupid feelings and he didn’t even have the decency to break it to him gently.

 

It’s not like he expected this to be easy, but he didn’t expect to fuck it up this badly, either.

 

“Be safe,” Connor says, and he’s not sure why but it seems like the right thing to say, or at least as right as anything in this wrong, wrong, wrong situation can be.

 

Evan doesn’t say anything as Connor leaves the kitchen.

 

When he gets to his bedroom, he turns off the light and curls up in bed, putting his second pillow over his head so it’s as quiet as he can make it. Maybe he won’t hear the door to the stairwell closing, maybe he won’t have to hear Evan leave and it might be a little easier.

 

A few minutes later, he hears the door close.

 

* * *

 

Evan felt like he might vibrate out of his skin as he made his way to The Little Book Nook for the party being thrown in honor of Connor taking over as the owner, officially. He felt like he had drank five 5-Hour Energy drinks, like his heart was going to explode out of his chest, like he wasn’t going to make it to the bookstore in one piece.

Honestly, he had been surprised to even be invited.

It had been a group text invite, which stung a little, Evan couldn’t deny that, but he was invited so he was going because even if he and Connor were in a fight (about what, Evan had no idea, maybe he had said something offensive or had forgotten to return a borrowed book or had been a selfish jerk when they had sex last time or maybe he was upset about that time Evan said he thought Slaughterhouse Five was pretty overrated and misogynistic), even if they weren’t speaking, Connor had done something Big and he was Evan’s best friend so he was going to his goddamn party.

He had changed clothes six times before leaving the house.

Mattie had sat on his bed and gently suggested the maroon tie he was now wearing, telling him he looked great and not to stress. “Connor’s your person,” Mattie had said. “He’s probably just been busy. Just go and congratulate him and you’ll see this was nothing.”

He was trying really really very hard to believe her. Mattie was smart that way. He trusted her.

Evan felt sort of stupidly empty-handed0, but the party was catered and he had a card for Connor but it fit into his pocket. It was silly. It said “You’re killing it!” and had a little cartoon knife covered in blood. When he saw it in the store he had laughed, hoping Connor found it funny.

Now Evan was worried what he had written in the card was too cheesy or stupid.

Fuck.

Evan really hated that he felt so damn nervous. This was _Connor_. Connor was the only person Evan didn’t get nervous around. Well. As nervous. Probably because he had been around in some of Evan’s genuinely most vulnerable moments and never judged him. He had seen Evan naked. He had seen Evan die. He’d talked him off a ledge, literally. Like… if something was going to make them hate each other, it would have been one of those things… right?

When he got to the block that the bookstore was on, Evan spotted Connor’s mother heading inside and panicked, deciding he definitely, definitely should be fashionably late. Evan was normally the sort of person who swore that being on time was late, but he just.

He needed a minute.

And a cigarette. Which he smoked standing over a public trash can a block and a half away from the store. He tried not to get all weird and worried about smelling like smoke when he showed up because Connor knew about that (unless maybe that was why Connor wasn’t talking to him? He was pissed about the smoking? Why wouldn’t have just told Evan if that was the case he could have invested in like a nicotine patch or something, smoking was just a coping mechanism and Marcia said he had tried to do too much too fast during his first couple of months in therapy when he tried to quit and started having more panic attacks at work but he wasn’t, like, committed to smoking and it had been a year and he could definitely quit if it bothered Connor).

When Evan finally gathered himself enough to go into the bookstore he realized that he was a bit overdressed and Connor was nowhere to be seen so he went to the bar that was set up and ordered some rum, tipping generously because he had lawyer money now.

Evan was not exactly great at socializing or networking, and honestly, truth be told, he wasn’t likely to run across a new professional contact or potential client at a bookstore’s opening. Connor sometimes teased Evan that he was able to overcome his anxiety for the purposes of ambition, saying it was a “Slytherin Anxiety Override” and to a certain extent, he was right. Evan could swallow his anxiety if he thought he could get ahead by striking up a conversation with someone.

That was not the case here. Unless one of these booksellers was looking to sue the corporation that printed their books on an environmental basis. But probably not. Book people were usually pretty pro-paper.

Evan finished his first drink too quickly and sort of awkwardly hid out in the travel section for a few minutes before deciding he could risk having another drink without looking like some kind of lush who had only come for the open bar. People were congratulating Connor across the room and he hadn’t even looked at Evan and what was he even doing here, he should leave the card somewhere and go, fake the stomach flu or something. Nobody was going to try to investigate his motives if he claimed to have diarrhea.

Not that Evan would do that. He would prefer if that was not the context for how Connor thought about Evan’s butt.

Not that Connor should be thinking about Evan’s butt because well, they usually had a lot of sex but they hadn’t really had sex in a while and maybe he thought Evan was like a sex-crazed monster who only came around when he wanted to bang and maybe Evan needed to make a point to have less booty-call related hang out time with Connor because he was his best friend and he didn’t want Connor to think he was just like using him for sex because he wasn’t, he could just jerk off but why jerk off when he could have sex with his super hot best friend and fuck.

Fuck.  

Maybe the problem was that Connor knew Evan was an idiot who despite his own rules sometimes let his own lines blur a bit and sometimes, stupidly, thought things like it might be nice to hang around and cuddle a bit after sex and sometimes he would like to hold Connor’s hand or just hang around while Connor read something or whatever.

It was stupid. Evan was stupid. He was seriously stupid for someone who was objectively, on-paper smart. He had been carrying around these stupid feelings for ages now and had done nothing to make the situation any less awful.

Maybe Connor thought he was just kind of desperate and pathetic these days, being all “oh I’ll help you out transferring over these contracts Connor, don’t worry” or “yeah I can be there later and notarize that for you.” Maybe Connor could see right through him, could see the thing he had been hiding for months and months now, being so pathetically transparently eager to please, no wonder Connor was sick of him.

Evan had a third drink and a fourth then sort of regretted it because, well, he was on these new meds that did seem to be helping a bit more than the ones he had been taking for the last six months but they… made him a super cheap date. In the past, Evan could drink most people he knew under the table. He could polish off a bottle of tequila and wake up only mildly hungover in time for work at 8:00am and now he had a few glasses of red wine and he was creepily cuddling up to Connor and talking about a mutual love-hate relationship with cheese with a 70-something lesbian.

“Hey Evan.” Zoe had walked over to him, smiling. He never knew what to expect with her. Sometimes she seemed to really like him, like on the rare occasion when they grabbed lunch or coffee together because their offices were only a few blocks from each other, and other times Evan got the distinct impression that Zoe found him extremely frustrating and he didn’t know why, exactly, so he just tried to be polite.

“Hi,” He said and smiled and tried not to be frustrating. “How are you? How’s work going?”

Zoe smiled. “It’s good. Really good actually. I’m starting to feel like I’ve really gotten into the groove of things.” Zoe had started with a small practice of other child and adolescent psychologists right after she finished her degree, and from the sounds of things, she was really fitting into the culture well. “Don’t tell Connor, but a lot of my clients do draw pictures with me.”

“Why wouldn’t I tell him that?” Evan asked, genuinely surprised.

“Oh, just… something he said a few times when I first started clinicals,” Zoe said, shaking her head. “Sorry, just… ignore me, I’m a little annoyed with him right now but it’s not important.”

Evan wondered what she was annoyed about but didn’t ask because he figured if she wanted to share, she might have volunteered the information herself.

“How’s work for you?”

“Good,” Evan said. It was a lie. His job was… stressful. And sometimes boring. And sometimes it felt like he and his coworkers were all playing the same shitty game of Survivor where everyone was just trying to see who could work the most hours in a single day. He clocked a lot of eighty to ninety hour weeks. His roommates even thought his schedule was taxing. Marcia kept not-so-subtly hinting that now he had worked at the firm for about a year, he should evaluate if the company was a good fit for him, but that just stressed Evan out a bit (a lot) and made him think he should re-evaluate if he should keep paying her money to tell him shit he didn’t want to hear. He had gotten used to his work, his job. He didn’t mind it. Kept him busy, kept his mind from wondering about stuff like why all of a sudden his best friend was avoiding him like he had herpes or something.

Maybe Connor had herpes? Or another STI or something and he was too embarrassed to tell Evan he had slept with someone else because Evan had totally overreacted about the Parker date a few months back and that’s why he was avoiding him. Evan would just go and get tested, like, he wouldn’t be mad… Okay, like, if it was herpes or HIV he might be a little bit upset because those were incurable but also very manageable and Evan had Proper Adult Insurance now so he could afford medications and it wasn’t like he and Connor were exclusive or anything so it wasn’t like Evan had an expectation that they were and… If that was why Connor was avoiding him he just wished he would explain so Evan could say it wasn’t a big deal. Or not like a huge deal. And then maybe they should be better about using condoms for stuff like oral if they were going to keep sleeping together because they had, admittedly, been a little bit lazy about the condoms when it came to oral and that was how syphilis often spread.

Zoe sort of gave Evan a questioning look.

“Well. Busy. Mostly busy.”

She nodded.

“It’s pretty cool that this place is, like, properly Connor’s now right?” He said quickly. “Like, he really did it! He owns a bookstore. That’s… amazing. Like genuinely amazing. Connor’s… amazing.” Evan felt stupid for saying amazing so many times but it was how he felt.

“It is pretty cool,” Zoe said and she was smiling now, like she couldn’t fight the urge even though she was apparently annoyed with Connor. “He always was a huge book nerd. Makes sense that this would happen eventually.”

“I thought he was more of a stoner in high school,” Evan said and then wished he hadn’t, flinched at his own words, what the hell was wrong with him, why would he bring up high school?

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” Zoe said, shrugging. “I remember once, I think it was the summer before his junior year? He was like… clearly super baked and I found him in the kitchen, like, reading the instruction manual for the microwave. He like… looked at me and told me the protagonist was ‘an asshole robot.’”

Evan laughed because, yeah, okay that was funny but also it was like… super adorably, perfectly a Connor thing to do. “Why was he even reading that?” He asked

“Our parents took away his library card because he got caught skipping gym class. Apparently, he didn’t ‘do’ cardio.”

Evan blinked, suddenly feeling very stupid and very exposed like maybe Zoe knew about the weird sex-as-cardio inside joke and she thought he was some sort of asshole who was stringing Connor along and using him for sex or something and he finished the rest of his drink too quickly and shit, shit, he was definitely not sober now and he hadn’t even told Connor congratulations yet, fuck, he was genuinely fucking this up so badly he might as well just fucking leave.

But just leaving a conversation would be fucking rude so instead he asked Zoe if she had read anything good lately, because they were in a bookstore and that seemed like an alright question.

She explained that she had taken to reading a lot of children’s literature and YA novels, just to stay aware of what her clients or potential clients might be exposed to in terms of media. She said she was in the middle of some middle grade books that were really well written, and then Zoe did the worst possible thing and asked Evan what he had been reading lately.

The last book he had read was about sustainable farming practices and Zoe asked what, exactly, that even meant and then Evan maybe got a bit carried away but he found the concept so fascinating, so he started to tell her about soil preservation and efforts to avoid polluting water supplies and he knew, he knew he was getting too lost in this topic, he was gesturing too much and talking too fast and embarrassing himself but Zoe was nodding like she followed and didn’t tell him to shut up or stop talking so he kept going, and this was why he had always liked her, why he had nursed that crush on her back in high school, because she was genuinely kind, she was caring and kind and never rude to him.

“Oh uh… thanks Evan. That’s nice of you to say,” Zoe said, looking a bit pink in the face and Evan realized he had told her she was “kind and nice and caring and wonderful” to her face and probably made things very weird. “Oh look here’s Connor now,” Zoe said, and she seemed to catch Connor by the arm out of nowhere and Evan couldn’t help himself, he smiled brightly because it was Connor and seeing Connor made him smile.

Evan was drunk.

Shit.

“Congratulations again. How does it feel to finally own the place?” Zoe asked Connor who was looking at Evan strangely, and it sort of made him self-conscious, and Evan tried to quickly and subtly run a hand over his face incase he had been walking around with like a toothpaste smear in the corner of his mouth or something.

“It hasn’t sunk in yet,” Connor said. “It’s just… it feels like it can’t be real, you know?”

“You’ve put in so much work,” Evan found himself saying because sure he might be a toothpaste-faced loser who was presently annoying Connor’s sister and the last person in the entire world that Connor wanted to see, but he had worked really hard and he was Evan’s friend and it mattered to Evan that Connor knew that he knew about all of the work he put in. Or something. Fuck. And shit, he had like put a hand on Connor’s arm and now Connor looked uncomfortable.

Shit. Fuck. Evan knew he was drunk and he needed to reign it in and Chill Out but he hadn’t seen Connor in literal weeks and he was here and he was real and he had done this genuinely amazing thing and he just wanted Connor to know how amazing he was.

“You’re one to talk,” Connor said smiling at Evan like he hadn’t spent weeks avoiding him, like everything was fine and yeah, okay, maybe Mattie was right and he had just been busy. Maybe Connor was just busy. Evan got busy. He understood busy. He was overreacting and everything was okay. Connor was smiling. He had the best smile in the entire fucking world, Evan thought, it was perfect even though it technically wasn’t perfect. It made his eyes crinkle a little so he almost looked like he was squinting at you, but Evan knew that meant he was really happy because he let the smile take over his whole face. “You gave me so much free legal help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Evan snorted, caught off guard, because Connor was Full Of Shit.  “Sure you could have. You’re incredible. You’re so smart and so driven and you’re following your dream and it’s amazing, it’s so amazing to watch. You can do anything. You could go to the moon if you wanted to.” Okay so maybe it was A Bit Much but Evan just really… wanted Connor to know he was like. The best. The greatest. A fucking brilliant musk ox or something. He was great.

“I’m going to go talk to Mom,” Zoe said, giving them both a smile and then shooting a look at Connor that Evan didn’t understand and Connor looked sad to see his sister go and Evan realized that, maybe it was rude of him, but he wasn’t sad to see Zoe go. He wanted to talk to Connor, really talk to him.

“I’ve really missed you,” Evan said to Connor because it was true, because he had really fucking missed him. “We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“It’s been crazy getting everything ready with the store. I’ve been super busy,” Connor explained and he sounded sorry, really honestly, earnestly sorry and Evan was. So fucking relieved. He was busy. He was just busy. Mattie was right and Evan had overreacted and over thought this whole thing and it was okay. It was fine.

“But you did it,” Evan said because Connor had done it, had done all this. Evan was just like ridiculously, embarrassingly happy for him. He wanted to just like… hug him or kiss him or tackle him to the ground but that was Weird, don’t be so weird Evan, so he settled for putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder because that was friendly and normal and platonic. “I’m really, really proud of you.”

“Shall we get something to eat? Gladys ordered a bunch of really tiny sandwiches and they’re fucking ridiculous but they’re actually pretty good.”

Evan nodded because honestly food was a great idea, food meant maybe he could get a handle on accidentally getting drunk at his best friend’s party because he was worried his best friend was angry at him, because that was obnoxious and that wasn’t what Evan was trying project here.

And then his eyes landed on one of small labels in front of a plate of snacks and he felt this strange, happy rush go through him because apparently, someone had brought in kosher snacks and… “The label says it’s kosher,” and he smiled hard enough that his face sort of hurt a bit. “That’s… Martha and Gladys aren’t Jewish.”

“No,” Connor said, “but you are.”

Evan was… not a great Jew in that sense because like, he half assed the kosher stuff a lot of the time, he was busy and sometimes he didn’t have a lot of choices when it came to food or a lot of time when it came to checking to see how it was prepared. Bad environmentalist, worse Jew. But he did try, when he could, to lean toward kosher foods and he knew Connor knew that (that’s why he always ordered half margarita or half green pepper pizzas when they were together because Evan tried not to mix dairy with meat, and that’s why he kept turkey bacon around on the rare occasion that Evan stuck around for breakfast).

He grabbed Connor’s hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “You’re so good,” He said, and he leaned his head against Connor’s shoulder for a bit because he couldn’t find another way to explain it. “You’re just… you’re so awesome, Connor, you’re so fucking great.”

Connor opened his mouth like he might say something but then Marco, Connor’s supplier, walked over to congratulate him and they end up talking a bit of shop, Evan realizing he knows Marco’s name because he helped to negotiate Connor’s contract with him and it felt strange to know this was all real, this was really happening for Connor, he was really the owner of this bookstore and he was going to do such amazing things.

But then Connor was saying he needed a new drink and Evan was sad to see him go, but he didn’t want to be rude so he talked to Marco about other bookstores he worked with throughout the city.

Evan eventually excused himself to get another drink, heading toward the bar where he noticed, a little annoyed, that the bartender was sort of flirting with Connor.

Not that Connor couldn’t flirt. He was allowed to flirt. He didn’t have a boyfriend or anything. He could flirt.

But Evan wished he wouldn’t so instead of going and talking to Martha or something polite or rational he went to the bar and interrupted the flirting and then Connor suggested whisky and Evan should have said no.

He ought to have asked for a water but he didn’t because Connor was here and this was safe and he wasn’t like, embarrassing or sloppy drunk, he was just a little bit drunk and he could get a little drunk to celebrate something objectively big. So he agreed to the whisky… and agreed to a few more, talking to the bartender Zak who was actually really nice when he wasn’t trying to flirt with Connor and about to embark on an MA in Nonprofit Management and it turned out they both knew Lisa who helped organise city-wide cleanup efforts and things started to blur.

“You’re amazing,” Evan remembered saying to Connor in front of Zak and god only knew who else because Connor was amazing.

“You’re really wonderful,” Evan recalled telling Connor suddenly in the middle of a debate on the Brontes, when Connor made a good point about Wuthering Heights.

The night started to blur and then Zoe was at his elbow, gently suggesting he eat something and have a glass of water to drink and Evan went along with it agreeably, because he should eat and he should definitely have some water, she was right, so he followed her upstairs to sit at the kitchen table in Connor’s place and drink three glasses of water she put in front of him dutifully while she talked about how she was annoyed that their dad hadn’t flown in for Connor’s store opening, and Evan nodded along as she talked, saying Larry was pissing her off lately.

“He… I went to court and he was the opposing counsel a few months ago,” Evan said, and he was slurring and felt a bit stupid for mentioning it.

“I know.” Zoe smiled. “I heard you kicked his ass. Connor said you really crushed it.”

“No,” Evan said, bashful, because he had won, he had managed to win his case and defeat Connor’s dad but he hadn’t kicked ass by any measure. You couldn’t kick ass when your hands sweat too much and your voice shook during your cross examination and you threw up in the bathroom minutes before you were due to appear. “But I won, yeah.”

He tried not to think about it too much because Connor had been so amused, so tickled and happy that Evan had beaten his dad in court that he had given what was possibly, genuinely, literally the world’s best blow job and it was the sort of thing you kept in your backpocket to remember when you wanted to get off but didn’t have the energy for porn or fantasy.

Evan felt like his face was too hot and he cleared his throat and kept drinking the water Zoe had sat in front of him.

“You kicked my dad’s ass,” Zoe said. “No wonder…” She stopped. “Nevermind. You want one of these kosher thingies? I stole the whole plate from downstairs because they’re amazing.”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

They each had two. Then Evan had two more because somehow, suddenly, he was ravenous. When Connor finally made it upstairs, Zoe smiled at Evan and put on her jacket.

“You’re leaving?” Connor asked Zoe and he seemed… nervous.

“Yep.” She gave Connor that look Evan couldn’t explain earlier. “Congratulations again.” And then she was gone, down the stairs. Connor walked her out, probably to lock everything up, and Evan realized he hadn’t been here in a while. It looked different. More lived in. Tidied up, for the party obviously, but Connor lived here now, properly, no unpacked boxes lurking around in corners anymore. It was homey and Evan… felt at home.

Connor reappeared at the top of the stairs and Evan and Connor were alone at last.

Evan suggested that they keep drinking because being drunk with Connor sounded great, really, but then Connor suggested that he would call Evan a Lyft home and, maybe too boldly, Evan asked if he could stay.

He never asked to stay.

They had rules.

Well.

Evan had rules.

No sleepovers, not too much cuddling, calling themselves friends in public because that’s what they were.

Evan broke his rules a lot. He had a suit here, in case of emergencies, one he had left on accident but kept there on purpose. He had a toothbrush because Connor knew he took his dental health seriously. He sometimes ate turkey bacon and drank coffee at this table.

But he rarely asked to stay over. Sometimes Connor asked if he wanted to. Sometimes it happened without them planning it out.

Sometimes Connor would stay at Evan’s but those were very rarely good circumstances.

Connor said he could stay, and Evan felt like he had won something, something important. He got to his feet, a bit unsteady, and crossed the room to pull Connor into a hug. Connor hugged him back, but it… it wasn’t right, it wasn’t how Evan remembered, it wasn’t Connor letting himself relax into it and so Evan started to talk because he talked when things felt not quite right.

“You did it,” Evan said.

“Yeah. You helped me do it.”

Evan shook his head because he had barely, barely helped. Connor had done this. It was his thing, his achievement, his win. “You did it.”

“All the legal stuff? I didn’t even know where to start. You helped me make this happen, Evan. You… thank you.”

 _Legal, schmegal_ , Evan thought. But he had obviously helped Connor. Because of course he helped Connor, Connor needed help and Evan could help and Connor was his person. He was his person, he had saved him in more ways than one, of course… of course Evan would help.  Evan held on a little bit tighter, pulled Connor in a little bit closer than he usually let himself get outside of sex. “Of course I helped you. It wasn’t… it wasn’t even a question that I’d help you, Connor, you… you saved my life.”

“And you saved mine,” Connor said quietly.

Evan couldn’t help it. He had to kiss Connor, it was a moment that required a kiss and he had been thinking about kissing Connor all night, literally all night so he had to do it. Connor kissed him back, slow and soft and nice, and after a few minutes Evan began to undo the buttons on Connor’s shirt because he wanted more of this, more of him, and Connor pulled away.

And something felt sort of hollow in Evan’s chest.

Something… was off.

Connor told him it was time for bed and Evan nodded along, things blurring a bit together, but his feet felt hot and he felt like he was just toddering around drunkenly and he wanted to kiss Connor some more but Connor was too far away, like he was trying to keep a piece of furniture or five feet between them and Evan didn’t understand. He changed out of his suit and then suddenly, suddenly, he was saying something he didn’t want to know the answer to, he was asking a thing he couldn’t unknow but it was hurting him, it was stabbing him painfully, like a pin hidden in his clothes that he couldn’t find, poking and hurting all night and all week and most of the month.

“Why have you been avoiding me, Connor?”

Connor just looked at Evan, like he wasn’t sure where the question was coming from, “I’ve been busy with the store.”

Evan frowned because… he wanted to believe that. He wanted to because it was easier, it was what Mattie had said, it made sense and then he didn’t need to worry but it sat wrong, it wasn’t right. Evan looked at Connor, still frowning, “Did I do something wrong?”

Had Connor figured him out, was he disgusted that Evan was so into him, should he be apologizing, had he ruined this?

“No!” Connor rushed to say, looking alarmed, “Fuck, no, you didn’t… I’m sorry.”

“I missed you,” Evan tried to explain because he missed Connor. So much. So much that it hurt, it physically hurt him, in his chest and arms and legs and forehead. He missed his friend, he missed Connor.

“I missed you, too,” Connor answered.

That was good, wasn’t it? It was a good thing to be missed.

Evan pulled the clothes Connor had given him on, and it was clumsy because he had been drinking and Connor looked at him, this weird haunted, lonely sort of look and Evan wanted to kiss it away.

“I need to finish up some things,” Connor said suddenly, like he was jumpy, like he was scared about something. “Get some sleep, okay? You… I’ll get you some water and some painkillers for the morning.”

“You’re not staying?” He had thought… he had hoped. He wanted Connor to stay, stay with him, stay here.

“I need to finish up some things,” Connor said again and then he was gone and Evan felt like he wasn’t quite breathing right. He curled up onto the bed, feeling… hollow and unhappy and drunk and lost and… Something had changed, had shifted, but he had missed it. He had missed it and didn’t know when he had missed it but he hated it, he really hated it, he wanted Connor he wanted them to be them…

And he was exhausted.

And he drifted off.

 

Evan woke up. His head was pounding. His mouth was dry, like he had spent hours trying to, like, make out with a carpet sample or something.

Fuck.

He got drunk last night. Really drunk. Embarrassingly drunk.

Fuck fuck he got drunk and forgot to remember that Connor wasn’t his fucking boyfriend and he made an absolute ass out of himself fuck fuck fuck.

Fuck.

He got drunk at Connor’s party and embarrassed himself, embarrassed Connor, fuck fuck he vaguely remembered Zoe shepherding him upstairs like he was a drunk college freshman who needed a babysitter and not a fucking Adult Person who could handle themself and shit. Evan asked to stay over. He never asked to stay over. He was being so fucking obvious why not just shout it at Connor right now?

Shit.

He had asked Connor why he was avoiding him and…

Connor had sort of dodged the question. Fuck fuck fuck. He shouldn’t have asked he should have gone home what the hell was wrong with him?

Evan rubbed a hand over his face trying to reset, focus, get a grip but he felt sort of seasick laying on one side of Connor’s bed, and Connor was nowhere in sight and he must have been such a disaster last night, he must have made such a goddamn fool of himself…

He sat up slowly. Walked as quietly as he could to the bathroom. Peed. Splashed some cold water on his face. Avoided looking in the mirror because he knew he wouldn’t like what there was to see in it.

He took a deep breath. Time to face the music. Evan walked to the kitchen where Connor was making coffee, and he said “hey” without looking at him at first and Evan… felt his face heat up, and fuck he was mortified, it was _that_ bad.  

“I’m so sorry,” Evan said, frantic, because fuck he had really made a mess of things last night, he had really fucked up and he was so damn sorry and Connor was avoiding looking at him and he had really screwed up, fucked up, shit shit what had he done? “I drank way too much last night, and I completely embarrassed myself, and you-”

“You were right,” Connor said. “I have been avoiding you. And I’m sorry.”

Evan shut up and looked at Connor because now… now he was confused. He was hurt. Connor was avoiding him? It wasn’t… it wasn’t all in Evan’s head? He hadn’t imagined it, it was real, he was really avoiding him and Evan didn’t know… why. Had he done something, said something, fucked up something? Why would Connor avoid him? He must have… he must have fucked up, he must have hurt him somehow without realizing and he would apologize, he would do whatever he had to do to make it right but he didn’t know what he had done. “Why?” Evan’s voice came out pained, pushed to the point of cracking.

Connor rubbed his hand over his face, like he was annoyed, frustrated, like he wasn’t sure how to explain. “I fucked up. I fucked it up and I’m really sorry.”

“You didn’t fuck up anything,” Evan said because… what had Connor fucked up? He hadn’t fucked up. Nothing Connor had done… could it be stress, the store transferring? Did he think he shouldn’t have asked for legal help? What… Connor hadn’t, couldn’t fuck up anything. Connor was… perfect, he was amazing, he was succeeding and working toward his dream and what could he have possibly done wrong? “The store’s amazing, you’re doing amazingly, you… you know exactly what you’re doing, it’s going to be great, you’re going to be amazing-”

“I’m not talking about the store,” Connor interrupted Evan sharply. “I’m talking about… this. Me and you. We agreed that we were just friends and it was just sex, it was… it was fucking cardio, and that’s how it started but I fucked it up and I’m really sorry.”

Evan felt like something had hit him, like a flower pot was breaking his skull in February, like he had been struck by a bus. He looked around awkwardly, like maybe someone had hit him in the back of the head and somehow he had missed it. Evan was lost here, disoriented, he didn’t know what Connor was saying, what he was talking about, where this had come from. “I don’t know what you mean,” Evan said, and he knew how desperate, how pathetic he sounded but he had to understand. Connor… Connor thought something about them having sex was messed up, he thought he had… _What was going on?_ “I don’t… what are you talking about?”

“I’m in love with you,” Connor said. It landed like a punch, painful and hard, landing squarely in Evan’s chest. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Evam blinked, trying to process, trying to… Connor was in love with him. And he was sorry… He was sorry he was in love with Evan, Connor was in love with Evan and he was sorry about it. “What do you… why are you _apologizing_?”

“Because you made it clear that it’s not… it’s not like that for you,” Connor explained, his voice calm, even… Like he had given this a lot of thought and come to this conclusion and was sharing the information with Evan, like it was just a fact Evan ought to know, like “did you know that I could cut my electricity bill in half if I installed some solar panels” or something. Connor continued, voice even and calm, no ripples or waves or breaking, “I just… it was supposed to be just sex with my best friend who’s really hot and I broke the rules and I’m sorry, this is on me and I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry because I know that this sucks, I remember when Richard was all ‘I love you’ when it was just sex and that guy’s human fucking garbage and now I’m doing the exact same fucking thing and-”

“You’re nothing like Richard,” Evan said suddenly because Richard was a... Richard was the worst, Richard was the sort of person who groped interns at barbeques and cheated on his husband. Connor wasn’t like that, Connor wasn’t. Connor was good and kind and sarcastic and funny and sort of an asshole but in an endearing way, he wouldn’t try to intimidate someone into sex, into a relationship, he wouldn’t, he wasn’t like that Evan knew him he knew Connor he loved Connor… He.

He was in love and he was sorry. He was _sorry_. He was sorry because he… because Connor didn’t want him, didn’t want Evan, didn’t want to be in love with him.

Fuck that hurt.

“I don’t want to be,” Connor said and it took Evan a moment to realize they were still talking about Richard, _why the fuck were they talking about Richard?_ Connor screwed up his face, going on, saying,  “You don’t have to… me being in love with you is not your problem, you know? I’m not going to, like, make it your problem.” He thought it was a problem, he thought it was a problem Evan wouldn’t want to deal with, he was apologizing and sorry and trying to make things less _inconvenient._

Connor kept talking, kept explaining and apologizing and Evan felt like he was drowning, like he was hearing this all from underwater, from so far away, “I just… I just figured you should know because I figured it out after the last time we had sex and then having the idea of sex with you again when I’d broken the rules felt wrong, like I was… like you didn’t have all the information and it was… false pretences or whatever.” Connor stopped. He rubbed his face. Evan had done that though, Evan had been the one doing that and…

Connor looked… upset. Sad or angry or just resigned and he hated it he absolutely, totally, hated it. “I just… it seemed wrong. So I avoided you and I’m sorry.”

“You’re in love with me,” Evan repeated, trying it out, trying to work it out because that it… He hadn’t known. He didn’t know. Evan had thought that… He didn’t know. He hadn’t known, he hadn’t thought, he hadn’t dared to hope he… Connor was in love. With _him_. With Evan.

And Evan was in love with Connor. He knew that.

But Connor was… sorry.

Connor didn’t want this. Didn’t want _him_.

So this was bad news. This was awful, terrible news because Connor was _sorry_. He was sorry for being in love, he didn’t want Evan he didn’t want to be in love he was sorry and it hurt.

“Yeah,” Connor said and he looked resigned and weird and sad and just… started adding almond milk to his coffee and Evan’s coffee and he didn’t even fucking drink almond milk why did he have it in the house?

Evan tried to say something but his voice failed. He cleared his throat, tried again, but he only got as far as, “I…” before he had to stop because he.

Couldn’t exactly say it back now, could he?

He.

Wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say now. He didn’t know what to do.

This wasn’t a triumphant realization, this wasn’t “I love you let’s be together,” this wasn’t good news this was Connor was in love but he didn’t want to be. He was in love and he regretted it.

Connor regretted it, he regretted that he loved Evan, he rejected the idea of it and said it didn’t have to be Evan’s problem.

He didn’t even ask if Evan wanted it to be his problem.

He didn’t want… he.

Evan was so fucking stupid.

He was so stupid, this was on him, _he_ had fucked up, he had been the one with the hard lines and the rules and insisted that they were friends, just friends, even though Connor was so much more than “just” his friend, he wasn’t “just” anything, he was everything, he was… He was Evan’s best friend, his person, he mattered he… Didn’t he realize that he was the most important person in Evan’s life, and that he didn’t have to be sorry? But he was sorry because he didn’t want this… Fuck.

“I made coffee,” Connor said after a long stretch of silence.  “I, uh, I made yours in a reusable coffee cup because I figured you’d want to just go and I’m sorry, it was selfish of me to just dump this on you and… you can keep the cup if you want, you don’t have to worry about giving it back, I bought a couple a while back because you went on that rant about reusable coffee cups and a lot of places give you a discount if you bring your own cup, which is really good because I just bought a bookstore so saving money is definitely a thing I want to do, you know?”

Connor didn’t want Evan to worry about returning the cup.

Because Connor didn’t want to see him again.

He was ending this, he didn’t want Evan around, this was ending and it was over.

That was… that was it, that’s what this was, he was telling Evan he needed to go to get out he was telling him to keep the coffee cup and get out of his apartment and Evan just helplessly looked around because he could do that, sure, he could go, but didn’t… He didn’t know where his clothes or shoes were and he didn’t think he could do it without making a scene or embarrassing himself further and… He just stood there and didn’t say anything, didn’t move, as if somehow that might change Connor’s mind.

But then Connor walked to the freezer and pulled out… Evan’s shoes and.

What.

The.

Fuck.

That was weird, too weird for linear time, maybe he had died again maybe he could fix this... “Why were my shoes in the freezer?”

“You said your feet were hot.”

So it was real. It was just Evan being a drunken disaster the night before.

Right.

Of course.

Of course.

Connor handed Evan the shoes and some stupid, juvenile, pathetic part of him wanted to refuse to take them because if he took them then he could go and he didn’t… He didn’t want to go because if he left he probably wasn’t going to be back.

He had a seat and held onto his cold shoes. Connor put the coffee cup on the table in front of him and it hurt, something about it felt final and painful and Evan had to fight the urge to knock the damn thing to the ground, to break it, because it wasn’t the coffee cup’s fault that he had done this, fucked this all up, ruined everything.

“I’m sorry,” Connor said again, and it hurt worse each time he said, it got more painful...“I-”

“Stop apologizing,” Evan snapped because if he heard it one more time he was going to totally and completely freak out, lose it, embarrass himself further. He couldn’t look at Connor because he might do something horrible like cry or say things and if Evan cried or said things it would be bad, a mess, terrible.

Connor recoiled and Evan hated that he had done that, made that happen.

Fuck.

He hated this. Evan hated this.

“Be safe,” Connor said and Evan felt like he was dying, he knew what dying felt like and actually, this wasn’t terribly far off, he just never knew something like feeling too much could actually kill you.

Evan couldn’t make himself say anything and Connor left the kitchen, turned and left Evan alone there in his stupid shoes that were cold and sweats that didn’t belong to him and Evan thought maybe, he ought to protest because damn it his clothes were in Connor’s room, but he realized that he couldn’t go in there or see him or say anything and Drunk Evan had at least had the decency to leave his wallet, keys, cigarettes, lighter, and phone in a haphazard pile on the counter and Evan decided he didn’t need that suit anyway, really, and he only liked that tie because Connor liked it, so he left without it. He just. Walked out the door and headed down the stairs and out through the bookstore where a sign on the door said they would reopen on Monday.

He got outside and Evan couldn’t breathe. Not in a panic attack kind of way, just in a… everything hurt, everything was ruined sort of way. He just stood there, half a block down from The Little Book Nook, trying to catch his breath, trying to get a grip, but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t. His head was pounding, his stomach sour, and he wasn’t even sure if it was the hangover anymore.

Eventually, Evan gathered himself enough to start walking home. He felt cold even in the warm summer sunshine. He felt on edge and desperate to do something with his hands so he stopped his walking and lit a cigarette and stared into the garbage can in front of him and wondered why people said you could throw away a relationship, a friendship. You couldn’t. It wasn’t like an old pair of shoes that you could throw into a dumpster and put out of your mind, it wasn’t forgettable material.

“Got a dollar?”

Evan looked up, a sudden cold trickling down his spine as he looked up and saw Otis with his hand out, guitar slung over his back, hair still unkempt and unclean, a sudden, violent reminder of who Evan was, how Evan was just a year and a half ago, before he knew Connor, and it was a sudden recollection of dying and dying and dying forced on him. “What?” He rasped, because he hadn’t caught what the man had said.

“A dollar. I want to get on a bus.”

“Uh. Yeah.” Evan numbly reached for his wallet, and pulled out all of the cash (a lousy $4) and handed it to Otis.

Otis turned to leave but then stopped himself, like he was forgetting something, “Don’t I know you?”

“Not really,” Evan said, feeling winded and scared. “I uh. My friend and I saw you playing in a park like… a year and a half ago?”

Otis nodded. “Right.” He frowned slightly. “He wasn’t gentle, was he?”

Evan genuinely choked up a little, his breath catching, his eyes flooding. “I don’t… I’m not sure. I…. I think I really screwed up.”

Otis looked alarmed and patted Evan’s shoulder awkwardly, “Maybe you should shave. It might help.”

Evan laughed a little, bordering on hysterical, because he had heard that, he’d been told that, he knew that. “Yeah.”

“Well uh. Take care,” Otis said, turning away. “Thanks for the cash.”

“No problem."


	19. August, Part II (One Year and Six Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sometimes I forget that you spent a long time really, really lonely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the nonstop angst train to Sadville.

Connor stays in bed, drifting in and out of sleep for hours. He’s woken up when his phone rings. He ignores it. It rings again. He ignores it again. After the third ring, he finally answers it. It’s Zoe, who’s outside the bookstore, ready to meet him so they can go to a restaurant for dinner with their mom. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Dinner with Mom, who’s come to town especially for his bookstore opening. 

 

Fuck.

 

His body feels like lead as he drags himself out of bed and downstairs to let Zoe in. She’s dressed in a nice dress and a blazer and looks surprised to see he’s still in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He lets her in and she smirks at him a little. 

 

“Evan still in bed?” she asks, and Connor actually thinks he might throw up. 

 

“No,” he says, trying to keep himself from screaming or crying or something else that’s embarrassing, and Zoe’s looking at him with a frown on her face and he can’t deal with this, he can’t, so he climbs the stairs and she follows him and he announces that he’s going to take a shower. 

 

When he’s got the hot water running, he can’t stop himself from bursting into tears, but he’s still got to make sure he’s quiet because Zoe can’t hear him, he can’t let his sister see this, because it’s all his fault and he fucked up and she’ll be able to see it’s his fault, she’ll be able to see that he’s ruined everything and that nothing’s changed, nothing in his stupid damn life has changed, he’s as self-destructive as ever, just like his dad said. 

 

And his self-destructiveness is hurting other people, too. 

 

He can’t get the look on Evan’s face out of his head. He’d just looked so  _ hurt.  _

 

Connor’s disgusted with himself. 

 

Fuck. 

 

He gets out of the shower, throws on his nicest jeans and a nice shirt and a blazer and remembers that Evan said he liked this blazer, he’d mentioned that he looked good in it that one time when they went out for dinner with Evan’s roommates (who Connor’s pretty much convinced are secretly boning) so puts it back in the closet and tries to find another one and then he’s looking at Evan’s gray suit and…

 

Fuck. 

 

He pulls his hair back into bun and remembers that Evan said he liked his hair up, and almost takes it down but it’s wet and scraggly and he hadn’t used conditioner so really, putting it up is the best he can do right now. 

 

Zoe looks at him when he goes back into the kitchen, and she looks seriously concerned now. “What happened last night?” she asks. 

 

“Evan and I talked,” Connor says, trying to keep his voice as even as he can.

 

“And?”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

Zoe looks more than a little alarmed now, but she seems to know not to push it, and they make their way downstairs to leave the building and get a taxi to the frankly far too fancy restaurant their mother has insisted they eat at. 

 

When they get there, Cynthia pulls Connor into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she says, even though she’s already said it a million times. “I’m so glad I got to share in this moment with you.”

 

“At least you showed up,” Zoe mutters under her breath, and it takes Connor awhile to realize what she’s talking about. 

 

Cynthia sighs. “Your father’s a busy man,” she says, and Connor thinks she’s being remarkably fair considering that her ex-husband’s a workaholic who’s kind of an asshole who’s rude to people in the service industry and that even if you’re a fancy-ass lawyer, it doesn’t mean you have to be a dick, because Evan’s a lawyer and Evan is so, so, so much better than Larry, and he even kicked his ass in court that one time and Connor had given him a blowjob the next time they hung out that Evan had described as ‘the best blowjob in the whole history of the whole history’ and fuck, fuck, fuck Connor can’t be thinking about this right now. 

 

“I don’t care,” says Connor loudly, and he lets his mother order a bottle of wine for the table, even though wine reminds him of that night in July with Evan, and…

 

He’s going to be hard pressed to find anything that doesn’t remind him of Evan at this point in time, fucking fucking fuck. 

 

“How’s work going?” Connor asks Zoe, hoping that she’ll take the hint and take over the conversation. She looks at him for a moment, then starts talking about work and her practice and how she’s fitting in and Cynthia seems more than happy to let Zoe talk and Connor drinks a glass of wine and then pours himself another one and orders some kind of shrimp appetizer, because Evan doesn’t do shellfish because he’s Jewish so he can’t be reminded of Evan by eating seafood except ordering seafood because Evan doesn’t eat it is making him think of Evan, and…

 

“Sweetheart, are you alright?”

 

Connor tries to smile at his mother. “I’m fine,” he says. “Just… big day yesterday, and tomorrow it’s all real, and I’m… a little overwhelmed.”

 

“You’re going to be fine,” says Cynthia soothingly. “Gladys and Martha couldn’t stop raving about how well you’d picked up everything. Everyone I talked to last night had so much faith in you, Connor. It might be a bit hard at the beginning, getting used to it all, but you’re prepared. You’re going to be amazing.”

 

And all Connor can think of is Evan’s smiling face, telling him how amazing he was. 

 

Happy and warm and safe and… drunk, and not…

 

Not in love with Connor. 

 

Not the way Connor’s in love with him. 

 

“It’s all just a lot,” Connor says quietly. “Sorry if I’m… I didn’t sleep well, so I’m kind of tired.”

 

Cynthia nods, as if she understands. “Well, it won’t be a late one tonight, sweetheart. I’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”

 

Connor has no idea what he orders for a main meal, he basically just says “I’ll have the same” to whatever Zoe orders, and he eats it when it arrives and it’s probably delicious but he honestly can’t taste a thing, and Zoe’s asking their mom questions about her new part-time job working at an elementary school as a teacher’s aide that’s starting in the fall, which Connor honestly had forgotten all about. He knew his mom had planned to be a teacher before he was born but he’d genuinely, honestly forgotten that his mom had found a part-time job since the divorce, even though she probably didn’t have to work a day in her life because she’d done very well in the divorce settlement. 

 

Which is so shitty of him to have forgotten, she’d called him to tell him and he’d been excited for her because she was taking a step toward doing something she’d dreamed of.

 

Fuck. He’s fucking everything up.

 

The conversation would have been interesting in any other circumstances. Cynthia’s talking about literacy programs and it’s clear she’s hoping Connor will chime in, but he’s just so tired and he’s so distracted and it feels like his entire brain is cold soup while at the same time he is aching with the effort that it takes to hold himself together and tomorrow, he’ll be surrounded by customers and people and while that normally wouldn’t be a problem, he’s not sure if he can survive it because he feels like… 

 

He feels like he’s missing a limb, like he’s drowning, like nothing makes sense, and it’s…

 

He just needs a good night’s sleep. 

 

If he gets a good night’s sleep, then he can face the day tomorrow.

 

He can wake up and enjoy the fact that tomorrow is the first day that he’s the full-time, permanent owner of The Little Book Nook. 

 

He’s worked hard for a year and a half and he’s achieved something he never thought he could and he should be happy, and he IS happy, but at the same time his entire rib cage feels hollow, and…

 

He needs to focus. 

 

He needs to fucking focus. 

 

When dinner’s over, his mother gives him a big hug and looks at him, her gaze a little questioning. “Don’t work too hard,” she says, patting him on the cheek. “And enjoy this, okay? You’ve done something amazing. You should be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you.”

 

He and Zoe both share a taxi and he gives her some cash when he’s dropped off first. “I’ll see you soon,” Zoe says firmly. “I’ll pop by after work sometime.”

 

Connor doesn’t bother telling her there’s not much point. 

 

He doesn’t know how to explain just how badly he fucked up. 

 

He locks the front door of the store and does a final sweep, making sure it’s all ready for the next day. For his first day of being the official owner. 

 

It’s all ready. The caterers did a great job cleaning up. 

 

It’s like the party never happened. 

 

He kind of wishes the party never happened. 

 

Connor heads upstairs and gets into sweatpants and a t-shirt and considers changing his sheets because his bed still smells like Evan, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He shuts his curtains, even though it’s not even properly dark yet, and climbs into bed. 

 

And of course, he can’t fucking sleep. Connor thinks about those stupid romcoms where they ask dumbass questions like “can you really have it all?” and it’s this whole thing where they have to juggle their personal and professional lives and it’s all completely insane, and he hates them and they’re idiotic and he’s so not a romcom guy anyway, but for some reason he just keeps thinking about them.  

 

It’s just ridiculous that he’s achieved some big huge important career goal and completely blown up his personal life. 

 

He’s just such a fucking idiot. 

 

After two hours of lying in bed, taking in deep breaths so he can smell the sheets like a creep, Connor gets up and goes to the kitchen. 

 

There are bottles and bottles of spirits on the kitchen table. 

 

He takes a half-empty bottle of rum and finishes it off, probably too quickly. 

 

Then he eats a plate of leftover appetizers, noticing that all the kosher ones are gone, and goes back to bed, his head feeling a little less like it’s trying to jump out of his skin. 

 

Maybe that’s why Evan used to drink alone so much, Connor thinks as he finally drifts off. 

* * *

Evan was a mess. 

Seriously, he was a disaster. 

He spent the entire day on Sunday in bed. Called in sick that Monday. He  _ never _ called in sick. He sort of believed he didn’t get sick. Jonathan grumbled that he ought to suck it up but Evan couldn’t go in that day. He couldn’t make himself go through the motions, put on clothes and work until eight or nine, spend half of the day looking up at the door only to remember Connor was definitely not going to do something silly and sweet like showing up with lunch and insisting Evan take a break to eat something. He couldn’t face Mariah who had known the bookstore party was this weekend and would ask how it had gone, couldn’t handle Asher or Charles asking after his “cactus man” because then he would freak out and embarrass himself and he just.

He couldn’t do it.  

Alex noticed. She was off that Monday and caught him in the kitchen around nine, staring blankly into the refrigerator at a carton of almond milk because it was the brand Connor bought because it was the brand he bought for himself and when had Connor taken note of that and why hadn’t he called or texted or checked in? 

Seriously they had rarely gone this long without talking since they stopped dying. 

Seriously where the fuck was Connor? Why wasn’t he around, why didn’t he care? You don’t say you love someone and then just stop fucking caring and Evan didn’t know how to do this, how to do anything without Connor.

“You must be really sick,” Alex said, looking at Evan critically. She was probably preparing to try to DIY doctor him again. She asked what his symptoms were. 

“I’m faking it,” Evan said miserably. “I just… needed a day.”

“That’s totally fair,” She said. “You work too hard. You should just… relax.”

He tried to nod. Yeah, sure, that was a thing he could do. 

“Is Connor coming over later to help with that?” Alex said, grinning at him, “Because I can throw some ear plugs in. Don’t let me being here stop you from doing your thing!”

To Evan’s absolute horror he felt his eyes swim with tears and okay, 1. Apparently he had Not Processed what had happened and 2. Alex was hugging him, muttering “shit fuck damn, Evan, what happened?”

He tried to explain, tried to wipe his eyes and get his fucking shit together, but it took a couple of pathetic, hiccupy moments. “Uh. Connor um. He t-told me he’s in love with me?”

Alex looked confused. “Is that… bad?”

“He said he was sorry,” Evan muttered. He couldn’t get past that. Who said that to someone? Who apologized for that? 

“He’s sorry? For… being in love with you?”

“I guess because… He doesn’t want to be? I screwed it up, because I said I… I was the idiot who kept reminding him that we… we were just friends, but that… I thought that was what he wanted? He never said anything and then he just dumped this on me.”

“Fuck,” Alex said. 

He nodded. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do? He… he said he loved me and that he was sorry and then he sort of threw me out of his place before I could, like, wrap my head around it.”

“Well… do you love him back?” Alex said. 

The honest answer was, yes, of course. He’d been trying to avoid the fact for months, really, because he was in a bad place when they met and he just… He had just hoped maybe Connor would get there and say something first, honestly. And then maybe they’d just… figure it out and it would be okay. When they were both ready. Once they had talked about it. 

But then Connor kind of disappeared and… 

Evan had fucked this up. 

He’d behaved like an idiot a that party, behaved like he was Connor’s boyfriend, like he had any right to act that way and then. He had just been so overwhelmed and happy that it seemed like Connor didn’t hate him that he let himself get carried away.

_ “I’m in love with you. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” _

That was fucking painful. 

How did they come back from that? 

Evan knew it was complicated. It was… Things were not that simple. He was not… He wasn’t easy to deal with, he was only just barely on the right side of sane, he was bad at communicating and worse at interpreting his feelings. Evan knew he was bad at relationships. He was plain bad at them, he took them both too seriously and not seriously enough, he had rotted his relationship with Sabrina from the inside out.

And Connor was his best friend. He was the best friend he had ever had, in his entire life, and now it seemed that he had fucked that up. 

It wasn’t simple.

And clearly Connor… didn’t want that. Didn’t want  _ him _ . He regretted loving him and Evan couldn’t blame him. 

“I… I…” He shook his head, trying to explain. “I have a lot of stuff, and I. I don’t. I haven’t dated since Sabrina and I broke up because I… My stuff gets in the way, and it makes me a shitty boyfriend, and I. I’m not sure I can even…” He stopped. Shook his head. “He probably hates me anyway so.”

“Sorry, wait, how does he hate you if he told you he loves you?”

“Because I’m the one who… blurred all of the boundaries and had all of the rules and screwed everything up! Because he’s… he’s fucking sorry! Of course he… of course he wouldn’t want to, like, date or whatever…”

“Do you want to date him?” Alex asked. 

“I don’t know!” Evan said, yelped, whatever. “Yes? Maybe? No. He didn’t even ask what I wanted, he was so busy being fucking sorry. I’m… This whole thing is confusing and I’m really freaked out. He just… ignored me for weeks and dumped this on me and now I feel like I fucked something up.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said. “That… really, really sucks.” She pulled a face. “I guess… I mean. It was just a lot simpler for Mattie and I, I guess.”

“What?” Evan said, confused. 

“Well, I mean, we kind of moved from friends with benefits to dating, but we were on the same page about it, and we checked in all of the time to make sure things were still working…” At Evan’s increasingly alarmed face, Alex sighed. “Please tell me you realized we were dating.”

“I didn’t,” Evan said in a small voice. “You sleep in _separate_ rooms!”

“Sleep is always the priority as a resident.”

“How long?”

“Over a year,” Alex frowned. “I guess I can’t be too mad, since Mattie and I were totally sure you and Connor were together the first time the four of us went out. Over a year ago. We thought it was a double date.”

Evan glared at his roommate. “Not helpful.”

“Sorry,” She said, giving him this sort of pitying look. “What can I do? How do I help?”

Evan shook his head because he really doubted anything Alex could do could help him sort out the disaster in his head or convince Connor that they could be fine. 

If this had been a year ago he would have asked her to write him a script for something that would make him not feel this. 

But he knew that was self destructive and stupid. So he just shook his head.

“Why don’t you just give it a couple of days for the dust to settle and then you two can talk it out?” She said after a while. “Maybe you just need to take a little bit of time.”

Evan wrinkled his nose. He didn’t want time, he didn’t want to take days… He and Connor genuinely talked every single day before Connor started avoiding him. Even if it was just a text or two, it was every day until it wasn't and… How was he supposed to figure out what to do about Connor if he was this busy missing him?

* * *

 

 

The first week of The Little Book Nook being officially Connor’s is busy. 

 

It’s like, super busy. 

 

There’s a steady stream of customers the entire week, and they go through stock a lot quicker than usual, and Connor didn’t expect it but thinks it’s probably a good sign. He’s got either Leslie or Maureen there most days and on the days it’s just him, things are so busy that he’s actually considering whether he needs to bring on someone else, just in case. 

 

He probably can’t afford to do that straight off the bat, he thinks. 

 

Not if he wants to avoid declaring bankruptcy before he’s thirty. 

 

Besides, the busyness might just be curiosity. People who want to come in and see if things have radically changed now that someone else is running a business that’s been around for over 30 years. 

 

At any rate, it’s successful, and it keeps him busy, and maybe he won’t have to declare bankruptcy before he’s thirty after all, and it means he can focus all his energy and thoughts on work, so he doesn’t have to think about anything else. 

 

It’s the nights that are tough. 

 

Connor’s having trouble sleeping, because it’s when he stops that he can’t stop thinking about how he’s lost his best friend and he hurt him and he never meant to do that and if he could have just kept his feelings under control and not completely betrayed him like the fucking asshole he is, everything could have been fine. 

 

And, well, there’s a ridiculous amount of alcohol leftover from the party, so…

 

A drink or two at night to get to sleep isn’t the end of the world. 

 

Or a bottle or two.

 

Wednesday night, Zoe’s at the store at around 7pm, and he really wants to kick her out and say they’re closing early but it’s the first week that The Little Book Nook is officially his, he can’t go around just closing early because he wants to avoid his sister. 

 

Not if he doesn’t want to run the business into the ground in its first year and declare bankruptcy before he turns thirty.

 

She’s texted him ten times since Sunday night and he hasn’t replied to any of them. 

 

“Okay,” says Zoe once she’s checked that the store is, surprisingly, empty. “What the hell happened with Evan?”

 

Connor feels his eyes stinging and he is not going to cry, he is at  _ work _ and he doesn’t have  _ time _ for this. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

 

Zoe crosses her arms and fixes him with a glare. “Did he… what did he do?”

 

“It wasn’t his fault,” Connor says, and he knows he sounds miserable. “It’s… it’s not his fault, it’s mine.”

 

“What did he say, Connor?”

 

“It’s not… look, it just didn’t work out, okay?”

 

Zoe frowns. “Bullshit. That’s bullshit, he… what did you say?” 

 

“I really don’t want to talk about this, Zo,” he snaps. “This is my fucking place of business, okay?”

 

“You don’t have any other customers,” Zoe says, clearly starting to get irritated. 

 

“It doesn’t mean it’s not my place of business.”

 

Zoe lets out a harsh laugh, then looks around for a moment. She picks up a children’s picture book off a display then slams it on the counter. “If I buy this book, will you tell me what happened?”

 

Connor just looks at her. 

 

He’s so tired. 

 

He’s so fucking tired. 

 

He just shakes his head. 

 

Zoe’s face falls. 

 

“Fuck,” she says quietly. “Connor-”

 

“I can’t,” he says, trying to keep his voice even. “I can’t talk about it because I will genuinely like, properly lose it if I talk about it and this is my… my first week owning this place and I have to get through it.” 

 

“You can’t just-”

 

“Are you going to buy a book or are you going to hound me about something I’ve repeatedly said I don’t want to talk about?” Connor interrupts, and it’s harsher than it should be, it’s harsher than he’s talked to his sister in a long time, and she pulls back a little, like he’s slapped her, and for a moment he thinks she’s going to yell at him, but instead she puts a $20 bill on the counter, takes the book and leaves. 

 

He barely has time to figure out what the fuck it is she just bought, but he manages to register it and make a note so the till is balanced at the end of the night, and he’s honestly convinced he’s going to burst into tears right then and there when a bunch of teenagers walk in, and one of them has a question about a YA book, and Connor finds them a copy and talks to them about how it’s one in a series, and it’s almost a nice conversation, or at least it would be if he weren’t so fucking hollow inside. 

 

When he’s finished closing up that night, he heads straight up to his apartment and has a couple of glasses of bourbon before crawling into bed. 

 

The next morning, Connor showers and has his morning coffee without milk because he’s only got almond milk and he can’t, he just can’t, and he’s out of cereal so he has a peanut butter sandwich, and he’s running low on bread but he still has plenty of peanut butter, and the worst case scenario he can just eat, like, tablespoons of peanut butter, because if he goes to get groceries he might run into someone who knows that he and Evan were friends and they’ll ask after Evan. 

 

Or worse, he might run into Mattie or Alex, who buy groceries at weird times and probably hate him now. 

 

Or worse, he might run into Evan himself. 

 

Maureen’s on a morning shift with him and she asks him, very politely, if he’s feeling alright, and it takes everything he has not to snap at her but manages to hold himself back and throw himself into the busy day. Thankfully, she’s still a new enough employee who’s always known him as her manager or boss, so she’s not going to push. 

 

Leslie, on the other hand, is an entirely different story. She’s been looking at him with concern all week, and when she finally asks him on Friday what the fuck is going on, he can’t help but tell her that it’s none of her business. 

 

Instead of just pulling back, she holds her ground. 

 

“You just seem really miserable,” Leslie says, biting her lip. “Is there something wrong? Is this about the store, is there something… something you didn’t know before officially taking over? If there’s something that you didn’t know when you bought it and it’s upsetting you then you should definitely call Evan and-”

 

“I’m not calling Evan!”

 

Leslie’s eyes widen, then her expression shifts to concern. “Is he okay? Is something wrong with him, is that why you’re-”

 

“Leslie,  _ enough.” _

 

Leslie stops for a moment, then she just looks… sad. “Oh. Oh, Connor. You both seemed so happy last week at the opening. He couldn’t stop talking about how amazing you were.”

 

“Leslie,” Connor says, his voice sharp. “I get that… I get that we used to be coworkers so it’s different now that I’m your boss, but I’m really not comfortable discussing my personal life with you.”

 

She looks at him, still with that sad expression, but holds up her hands in surrender. “Okay,” she says finally. “Okay, I get it.”

 

Connor nods tightly. “Okay.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s fine,” Connor says curtly. “It’s… could I get you to have a look at the foreign literature section, please? We’ve gone through a lot of stock this week and I might need to get in touch with Caroline sooner than usual.”

 

Leslie nods. “On it.”

 

As they get close to closing on Friday, Connor tells Leslie she can go home early if she wants and he can close up. Leslie bites her lip and tells him she doesn’t mind helping. 

 

They close up the store in silence and Connor feels like a fucking asshole. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he says after he finishes balancing the till. “You didn’t… you didn’t deserve me pulling rank like that, it wasn’t cool. I’m sorry.”

 

Leslie looks right at him and nods. “Thank you for apologizing,” she says, offering him a slightly sad smile. “I… give it time, yeah? It might feel like shit now, but… it’ll get easier with time.”

 

Connor doesn’t want time. He doesn’t want it to get easier. 

 

He wants Evan to love him back. 

 

But he doesn’t say that, he just nods and thanks her and as she leaves, locks the door behind her then heads upstairs to his apartment. 

* * *

 

Evan moped around for almost two weeks.

On Tuesday, he received an email in regarding the deed to The Little Book Nook having been officially transferred and his heart got stuck on the fact that his name was right there in print, EVAN HANSEN representing CONNOR MURPHY.  

He needed to get the document to Connor but he. 

He didn’t need Connor getting an email from him. He didn’t want to send an email to Connor, fucking hell he didn’t want to reach out when he was… like this. 

So, like the coward he was, Evan forwarded the email to the office assistant asking her to send a copy of the documents to Connor and to CC Zoe since at least if Connor ignored an email from Evan’s firm, Zoe would make sure he got what he needed. 

It was stupid. Evan was stupid. 

By Wednesday, Mariah had totally worked out that something was wrong and she basically dragged Evan out of the office to attend the after work drinks to send off the summer interns. Evan had barely worked with any of them, didn’t know them well at all, but Mariah made a compelling argument that it was an excuse to have a drink and “no offense dude but it looks like you need one.” 

Evan couldn’t deny that. 

“Is something going on?”

“I…” He sighed. He didn’t want to get into it, really. “Just. Connor and I… Whatever we were… we’re not. Doing that anymore. I guess.”

“Oh,” Mariah said and she sounded surprised. “Did he meet someone else?”

“No, uh, it just… didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that dude,” She said, frowning. “Uh… I guess I should probably quit setting up and cancelling dates with his sister then, huh?”

“Was that still going on?”

Mariah shrugged. “We’re both busy, we just never managed to actually meet up. I dunno.” 

Evan let Mariah take the lead, getting them into an impassioned discussion with Asher and Jonathan on the ethics of golf courses and he wasn’t really there. He was in Connor’s kitchen, looking at the way Connor’s face had crumpled, ears echoing with “I’m in love with you” and “I’m sorry.” One of the leaving summer associates tried to flirt with him at one point, but Evan just brushed her off and told Mariah he had to go home. When he and Sabrina had broken up, Evan had… slept with a lot of people to try to get over her. He knew, objectively, that he could go home with that intern and he could end up nicely distracted for an hour or two but he… He couldn’t see doing that now. Somehow the fact that he and Connor had never been a real... thing made it worse. No flirty intern was going to distract him from this. 

On Thursday, he legitimately didn’t leave the office until almost midnight and had to have a very, very serious talk with himself about how he was not going to become the guy who slept on the sofa in his office lounge just to avoid being home by himself. He refused to be that pathetic. 

But he was totally bordering on being  _ that _ pathetic, so he made himself leave the office and take an unnecessarily convoluted way back to his apartment so as to avoid any place where he might run into Connor. 

Which was silly, it was late and reasonable people were not out and about at this time of night. Connor was a reasonable man who owned a business and didn’t want to be in love with a disaster like Evan. 

When Evan returned to his apartment, Alex and Mattie were snuggled up together on the couch, and Evan was again very embarrassed that he somehow had missed that his two roommates had been dating each other for almost half the time had been his roommates. 

“You’re home late,” Mattie said. 

“Big client,” Evan said, which was a partial truth, it was a big client, and his boss had been breathing down all of their junior associates’ necks to woo them away from Richard McLaren’s firm so Evan spent most of his evening scouring things like facebook likes and tweets for hints about what might sway them. But that had ended up with him clicking on some tabloid that reported on Richard and James divorcing, which then led Evan to looking pictures from Sebastian’s fourth birthday party on Facebook (he was still friends with James) for evidence of Richard still being a bastard, and then going angrily through all of Richard’s photos because he had fucking terrible privacy settings and trying to guess if and when he had slept with Connor in relation to some of the photos.  “I think I’m just gonna crash.”

They bid him a good night and he pulled off his tie and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face and try not to look too long or hard in the mirror above the sink because he couldn’t forget when the mirror had disappeared. 

Evan slept badly, plagued with nightmares about dying about jumping off his roof about falling out of trees about being hit by buses and trains and falling flower pots and worse, dreams where Connor was hit by a bus where Connor started to bleed out in a bathtub where Connor started to just bleed in his old apartment where all of the furniture had disappeared and when his alarm went off at quarter to six, he wanted to throw his phone across the room. But he didn’t. Instead he got up, got dressed, grabbed his reusable coffee cup that Connor gave him as some kind of Fuck Off Forever present and stopped in a cafe half way to work to get as much espresso as they would sell him. 

As he walked into his office, Evan saw that he had gotten a text and his heart jumped because he wanted it to be Connor… But it was Sabrina. He tried to push away the disappointment of it being not Connor to remember it was nice to hear from her since she was officially back in New York and actually his friend. 

_ “Evan! I’m finally all unpacked! Would you want to get a drink and catch up this weekend? I’ll show you my plans for my bulletin boards if you say yes. Sneak peek before it ends up on Instagram.” _

He smiled. Sabrina was a teacher. When they first moved out here, she was doing a placement with Teach For America, and Evan used to say she had the absolute best bulletin board decorations of any fourth grade teacher he had ever met. He stood by that claim. She always went all out to make her students feel welcome. 

Sabrina was great. He was really genuinely glad she was moving and going to be close by again, and that they were talking more now. He agreed to get that drink with her, because it might be nice to drink with an actual human person again, rather than alone and miserably thinking about Connor. 

Evan dove into work, back to researching the potential client and also researching that client’s case. He was basically up to his eyeballs in precedents set in similar cases when a knock startled him. 

Zoe Murphy was standing in his office doorway in a cherry red blazer and black slacks, looking very professional and cool and effortless in a way that made Evan sort of want her to like… tutor him in how to look like an adult. 

But then he remembered that, right, he and Connor weren’t speaking and, right, Zoe had a deep, deep protective streak, so it was possible that she was here to like… curb stomp him or something. 

“Hi Zoe. Did we have lunch plans?” He looked nervously at his watch; it was well after three in the afternoon, too late for a typical lunch, so if they did he had definitely accidentally blown her off. 

She shook her head. “I had a last minute cancellation. Norovirus.” She frowned a little. “Come grab a cup of coffee with me? You look like you worked through lunch.” She did not seem to be gearing up to punch him or something, which he took as a positive sign. And he had worked through lunch, so… coffee maybe wasn’t a bad idea. 

“Yeah, alright.” He got up from his desk and grabbed his reusable coffee cup and followed Zoe to the elevators and down the block to a cafe they both liked. 

While they waited for their drinks at the end of the bar, Zoe fixed Evan with a look. “I’m not going to pretend I don’t know you and Connor aren’t talking.”

He nodded. It was probably for the best. 

“And even if I didn’t know, I got copied on an email regarding a deed this week…?”

“I was afraid he might ignore an email from me. Even an important one.”

Zoe nodded like that was a reasonable fear. “He’s… miserable. And kind of being a dickhead, really, moping around the shop and avoiding me.” Zoe sighed. “I know it’s not really my business…”

Evan frowned. “He. Uh.” He looked down at his shoes and the ground didn’t swallow him whole. “It wasn’t a fight or anything. Just, the night of the party. He… Connor told me how he felt about… me. And then apologized for it and… yeah.” 

Zoe frowned. “He apologized?”

“Yeah he said uh… that it wasn’t my problem to deal with? That he... “ _Loves me._ Evan couldn’t say it. He fiddled awkwardly with his tie, not looking at Zoe.  “I just… I left. I don’t think he wanted me to stick around, and I wasn’t sure what I could even say since he had already made up his mind so... We haven’t talked since then.”

“Okay.” She looked sad, but resigned, like this was to be expected. 

“You knew?” Evan asked, feeling stupid. Of course she knew. Probably everyone in the world knew. Everyone but Evan. 

“I did. I… I told him that he should tell you but… Fuck, Evan, I’m sorry. He’s an idiot.”

“He isn’t,” Evan said because Connor was really, very intelligent, very bright, very driven and focused when he wanted to be. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what he wanted and did stuff to get what he wanted so he obviously didn’t want Evan. Connor was smart and driven and amazing. He was just… sorry he was in love with Evan. 

“I know it’s nosy and whatever, but I could talk to him for you?”

“No thanks,” Evan said. “I appreciate it but… I don’t think he wants anything to do with me and I’m not going to, like, try to force him to deal with me. It’s not fair to him.”

Zoe looked really unhappy with that answer, but she didn’t push. Instead she frowned and muttered something about it being a bitch of a situation and Evan nodded in agreement. “How are you doing though?”

He shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not… I’m not great.” He swallowed hard, wishing she hadn’t asked because it was easier to pretend to be okay if nobody asked him point blank. His chest ached, like somehow his heart, his literal, physical heart was hurt.  “I feel like I just lost my best friend and I’m not sure why.” Fuck. Evan cleared his throat. “Please don’t tell him that. I… Don’t tell him, okay? Please? I don’t want him feeling guilty or anything.”

“Maybe he should,” Zoe said, frowning. “Sounds like he was being really selfish and-”

“No,” Evan shook his head. “It’s not...He shouldn’t have to feel guilty about this, alright? I made things confusing and he’s allowed to… feel however he does. This… Just don’t say anything okay?”

Zoe frowned but agreed. 

They moved on to lighter topics, talking about how Zoe was redecorating her office this weekend, painting the walls a more kid-friendly color and Evan talked about how his mom was thinking about flying in for Thanksgiving. 

“Your mom is great,” Zoe said, smiling. “Are you going to take her to the parade?”

“Probably have to,” Evan said, explaining how they had watched the parade together every year when he was growing up, all the way through Evan’s undergrad. One year they both had to work that day, so he DVRed the parade so they could watch it together that night over Lean Cuisine turkey and boxed mashed potatoes. “I think she would love it.”

“Good.”

Zoe walked Evan back to his office and told him not to work too hard. He agreed but he knew he was probably lying, at least a little, and when he got to his office he did another six straight hours of work because he didn’t want to think about how Zoe said Connor was miserable, that Connor was an idiot. 

He supposed he appreciated that Zoe was even still speaking to him. He wasn’t always clear on where her loyalties in regards to Connor were. It was nice to know she’d still talk to him, even if Connor wouldn’t. 

 

By Friday, Evan was really really glad to have plans to focus on. He and Sabrina agreed to grab dinner, sans Graham which Evan was really grateful for because he thought Graham was fine but found him a bit… boring. He didn’t exactly get Graham and Sabrina together, but she seemed happy and their wedding was next Spring so. He didn’t dislike the guy, but he was glad to get to catch up with Sabrina without him for a change. 

“Sometimes, he is just so… hetero? Like, he kept making ‘do I need to be worried?’ jokes all week,” Sabrina said, rolling her eyes. 

“So much for my plan to seduce you,” Evan joked and Sabrina laughed. 

She really laughed like it was genuinely funny, “Like, I love him to death, but if we’re getting married he will be unlearning that particular habit.”

“Fair enough. Jealousy isn’t cute.”

“Here here.”

The two of them ended up drinking martinis. Several, in fact, while they waited at the bar for their table to be ready. Evan was a little bit buzzed before they even got their menus, and he knew Sabrina was drunk because she kept pinching the skin of his elbow. It was always her tell, because she always did it, and it was kind of funny, really, that she still did that. 

Once at the table, they decided to split an appetizer and Sabrina showed Evan the wedding dress she had picked out. It was very pretty. Very Sabrina. In turn, he showed her a picture of his new office with its nice view and she bemoaned the lack of natural light in her classroom. They caught up, sharing updates on their families (Sabrina’s youngest sister Tabitha had come out as gay, Evan’s mom was visiting for Thanksgiving, Sabrina’s nephew was starting pre-kindergarten, and Evan’s deadbeat dad was officially having another kid with his stepmom which they both agreed was Too Big of an age difference).

They ate dinner and sobered up a little bit but they weren’t finished hanging out, really, so they stumbled over to a quiet bar across the street and kept up the drinking and Evan appreciated that Sabrina didn’t judge his affinity for vodka unlike some people he knew. 

“You haven’t mentioned your friend,” Sabrina said suddenly. “Connor. Fuck, I like… briefly forgot his name. I’m drunk. Yikes. I saw he had just opened his bookstore on facebook.”

Evan felt his face twitch awkwardly. “Yeah, uh… things with us are… weird right now.”

Sabrina’s grin slipped off. “Evan you  _ didn’t _ .”

“Didn’t what?”

“You didn’t sleep with him did you?”

He felt his face heat up. 

“Damn it, Evan,” Sabrina said laughing. “So he’s in love with you now, right?”

Evan felt his face get hotter. 

“Of course he is,” She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re very easy to fall in love with, especially after sex. Because well, you know. You’re extremely good at it.” Evan wondered if it was possible to pass out from blushing too hard. Sabrina was smiling, laughing. She thought it was good news. She thought it was a good thing. “So, what, are you an item or still figuring that whole thing out?”

He shook his head, staring into his drink. “Actually he uh… he told me he’s in love with me and then apologized and said it wasn’t my problem so. I don’t know what is happening right now.”

“Fuck,” Sabrina said. “He  _ apologized _ ? That’s… brutal.”

“Uh, yeah,” Evan said, his voice tight, strangled. “I… I guess he must just really not want to be in love with me.” Once he said it out loud it hurt worse, like when you exposed a paper cut to the air, like when you pulled off a bandaid too soon. Sabrina gave him a pitying look. “Which, I guess, I mean. I get it. I’m  _ me,  _ like, I understand that dealing with me is a lot of work and…”

“Come on, don’t say that -”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Sabrina, I know it’s not exactly a picnic,” Evan said sharply. Sabrina patted his arm, as if to console him. “I didn’t know what to say to him. I froze, and I’ve been frozen so… So, actually maybe you can help me with this. Because I’ve been wracking my brain and I don’t… I can’t figure out what I keep doing wrong. So, if you could just, uh, help me out and tell me what the fuck is wrong with me, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Shit, Evan,” Sabrina said, but she was kind of smiling. “You’re going to have to be more specific.” She grinned to let him know she was joking and he threw his cocktail napkin at her. 

“You’re such an asshole,” he told her, laughing, the tension broken a little.

“I know.” Her smile turned into a much more serious expression. She grabbed his hand, gave it a squeeze. “I… Honey, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I don’t think you’re right about that.” He shrugged. “I mean, I’m…” He sort of gestured vaguely at his entire existence. 

“An anxiety disorder is not a character flaw,” She said reasonably. “And you’ve been doing a lot better these days. I can tell. You’ve been doing a lot of work and it shows.”

Evan nodded awkwardly because he couldn’t deny that. 

“I… I can’t seem to figure out how to do this. Feelings are… complicated.” He sighed. “I mean, I fucked things up with you. And you’re amazing.”

“You didn’t fuck up, we  _ both  _ fucked up stuff,” Sabrina said, shrugging. “I am amazing, but I’m not perfect or blameless here. You can’t hold yourself solely responsible for our entire relationship ending. We were both there.”

Evan closed his mouth over his natural response which was to just accept the blame for everything. Instead he said, “I just… With all of my, you know. Mental health… stuff.”

“That wasn’t it,” Sabrina said sensibly, like she had already considered and dismissed the whole idea. “I mean, it was part of it, but it wasn’t the whole thing. I felt… I felt like you wouldn’t let me help you, let anyone help you, and that was frustrating. But I was also distant and didn’t really communicate what I needed from you to make things work. We weren’t on the same page anymore, you know? It wasn’t just you.”

Evan nodded, wanting to believe her. 

“Though… If we’re being honest?”

Ah, Evan’s least favorite words. 

“With me, you never seemed… totally yourself. You couldn’t, like, relax. Be real with me, be vulnerable. And that’s not your fault,” She rushed to add. “I know that it wasn’t just you. That was partly on me because I put a lot of pressure on you to be, like, the Perfect Boyfriend. But… when we all met up for drinks a few months back, you seemed. Really at ease with Connor.  It made me happy, seeing you two like that.”

Evan frowned. “I don’t think he wants that.”

“Did he say that? Did you ask him?”

Evan shook his head. “I thought it was obvious from what he said. I… he doesn’t want  _ me _ .”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think he would have told you he loved you if he didn’t want something -”

“He said he was  _ sorry _ ,” Evan said miserably.

“Take it from your ex,” Sabrina said with a gentle smile. “Sometimes the things you think are obvious are really something else. I know it’s hard, opening yourself up and being vulnerable like that… but if he could make you happy, isn’t it worth the risk?”

Evan considered that for a while. “How did you know? With Graham?”

Sabrina grinned, laughing. “I know, he seems sort of boring, right?”

Evan wanted it stated, for the record, that he wasn’t the one to say that. Even after four vodka martinis. 

“He’s just… He’s not though. He’s not boring. And he really listens when I talk, you know? Not that you didn’t or… The point is, he listens to me like I’m the most important person saying the most important things, you know? Like, he just… gives a shit. He wants to know what I’m up to, all the time. But not in a possessive way, more like? He’s just interested. Like he’s probably texted me at least twice since I got here just because he’s thinking about me.” She pulled out her phone, and sure enough, two texts from Graham Smith were on her screen. “And yeah, he works for a bank, sure, and it can be a bit dry, but he is a great person. He speaks three languages, and not in a braggy, douchey business school way. He learned Spanish because the neighborhood he lived in growing up had a big Latinx population and his best friend is Deaf so he signs. He has a really big heart and… I never feel like I have to perform or pretend to be something I’m not around him.” Sabrina smiled, a little sheepish. “I… that probably doesn’t answer your question.”

Evan smiled at her fondly. “It did though. Thanks.”

Sabrina smiled at him. “Want to take a selfie so Graham gets jealous? He always wants to go down on me when his masculinity is threatened, and I could use a good orgasm or two.”

“So much for getting him to unlearn that behavior.” Evan laughed easily. “We are so bad at being exes. I should not be helping you get laid,” He said, pulling out his phone. She stuck out her tongue. “We’re posting it on my instagram though, so I don’t look like I’ve been moping around for ages.”

“Well, I suppose making Connor a little jealous can only help you, right?”

Evan laughed at her, which meant they were both genuinely smiling in their selfie. He didn’t usually put too many comments on social media posts but he was drunk and happy that Sabrina was around, so he added,  _ “So happy you’re back in NYC, @Sabrina.Patel.”  _

She commented back immediately.  _ “Worst ex ever. Ugh. Terrible,” _ followed by about fifteen different hearts. Evan felt better after that. 

* * *

 

Technically, Connor is supposed to have Saturdays and Sundays off once he Officially Owned The Little Book Nook. Technically. It’s how he organized shifts when he was planning things out. He’d picked weekends that were actually weekends so he could hang out with Evan, because Evan didn’t work weekends all that often (except for the times he did). 

 

But on Friday night, he sets his alarm for Saturday morning for the usual start time. 

 

He does drink almost an entire bottle of vodka, though. Even though he usually hates vodka, because it doesn’t taste like fucking anything. 

 

Connor wakes up an hour before his alarm on Saturday morning and showers and eats three tablespoons of peanut butter out of the jar instead of a meal because he genuinely doesn’t have anything else in his house. He ate all the leftovers from the party and made pretty good headway with the alcohol but there’s still, like, a lot of wine, and some people like to say that wine is a salad, so…

 

Hah. 

 

He’s pathetic. 

 

He is so fucking pathetic, he knew this would happen, he knew he’d lose Evan and he’s been bracing himself for the impact of it all since July but he wasn’t even slightly prepared and he’s such a fucking asshole. 

 

He’s run out of conditioner, so his hair is kind of gross, so he throws it into a bun and heads down in time to open the store. 

 

Connor just needs to… keep going. Keep going, because most new businesses barely last a year, and he doesn’t want to run this place to the ground, and he doesn’t want to have to declare bankruptcy before he turns thirty. 

 

He can’t fuck up another thing he cares about. 

 

At quarter to ten, Maureen comes in and looks confused and a little concerned. “I, uh… did I get the shifts mixed up?” she asks tentatively. “I thought you had weekends off.”

 

“Just can’t stay away,” says Connor, trying for a casual tone but knowing the minute he’s said it that it’s fallen flat. “I’ve, uh, everything’s ready to go, so… do you want some coffee?”

 

“That would be great, actually,” Maureen says, and he makes her a coffee in the tiny kitchenette behind the counter that’s for employee use only, and he realizes he hasn’t bought milk for that fridge and…

 

He has to leave the building to get milk. 

 

Shit.

 

Fuck. 

 

He takes a deep breath, goes to the till and pulls out a $5 bill, then gives it to Maureen. “Can you, uh, could you go grab some milk?” he asks, feeling like an idiot but aware that if he leaves this building, he’s going to run into someone who knows Evan, or he’s going to run into Evan, and he can’t… he can’t fucking handle that right now. 

 

“Sure,” says Maureen, looking more than a little confused, and she heads out, and Connor flips the sign on the door to open, and waits for someone to come along so he can fucking distract himself. 

 

Maureen’s back with milk before anyone else comes along, and he finishes making them both a coffee, and they both keep an ear out for the bell and drink their coffee in an awkward silence. 

 

“How’s the first week been?” Maureen asks, her voice tentative. “I guess it must have been a little stressful.”

 

“It’s been okay,” Connor says. Lies. “A bit overwhelming, but… good. Good, really, yeah.”

 

And yeah, it’s been objectively good. It’s been a good week for profits, they’d had plenty of customers, stock was moving and Connor had been able to keep busy. 

 

Busy is good. Busy means that he hasn’t failed. He hasn’t run this place to the ground, he hasn’t failed like his dad is sure he would. 

 

Connor kind of walks around the shop for the first couple of hours, trying to give Maureen the space to do her job but also finding that he’s jumping in and talking to customers and tidying things up in the corner and… not really letting the poor girl do her job, fuck. Maureen’s looking more and more worried and nervous as time goes by, so as soon as the shop’s empty again, Connor goes to talk to her. 

 

“Is something wrong?” Maureen asks, before Connor can say anything. “Do you… is there something wrong with what I’m… it’s just that usually I’ve been okay on my own when I’ve worked Saturdays, since I finished training-”

 

“I’m just having a hard time letting go,” Connor tries to assure her. “It’s my first week as the boss, that’s all. I have no concerns about your work ethic, I  _ promise, _ I’m just…” He tries to smile, and she tries to smile back, and oh god, now he’s freaking her out, and this is not good, he should go, he should go and do something else, anything else, but if he goes back to his apartment he’s just going to drink and that’s not good, he should do something, he should call someone, but he’s got no one to call because he just torched the most important relationship in his life and…

 

“Connor, are you okay?”

 

Connor nods and realizes to his horror that he probably looks like he’s about to have a fucking meltdown and this poor college student he’s only recently employed should not have to deal with this. “I, uh, fuck, I’m sorry, I…”

 

The bell over the door goes and Connor looks over, hoping to have a customer he can distract himself with. 

 

It’s not a customer, it’s Zoe, who looks more than a little annoyed at him. She rolls her eyes when she sees him. 

 

“You’re not supposed to be working Saturdays, Connor,” she says irritably. 

 

“I own the bookstore,” he says stubbornly. “I can work whenever I want.”

 

“You look like shit,” she says, looking him up and down, and while she’s definitely right, he doesn’t appreciate being told this, in front of his fucking employee. 

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Trying to get you to fucking talk to me,” Zoe snaps. 

 

“Not here,” Connor says, more than a little pissed off. “I’ll talk to you upstairs, I just… just give me a moment.”

 

Zoe glares at him again, then heads up the stairs to his apartment, and Connor looks at Maureen, who’s gone a little pink. 

 

“Sorry,” Connor says, trying desperately to hang onto some kind of professionalism. “That’s my sister, she… sorry you had to see that.”

 

“Zoe, right?” says Maureen, and she’s definitely blushing now, and… 

 

One day Connor might stop being surprised at the fact that every fucking lesbian he knows has a crush on his sister. 

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, trying not to sound as annoyed as he feels. “Look, I’m sorry for being weird, I… I’m heading up to deal with Zoe, I’ll leave you to it. Sorry for… sorry.”

 

He heads up the stairs before Maureen can say anything and tries not to worry about the fact that he might have single-handedly pissed off his entire staff in his first week of owning a business. 

 

Zoe’s in the kitchen, looking around and frowning. “Jesus fuck, Connor,” she says, and she’s probably right, the place is a fucking mess. “Have you actually left your apartment to go somewhere other than work since we had dinner on Sunday?”

 

Connor rolls his eyes. “Where would I go?”

 

Zoe crosses her arms and looks at him, then bites her lip, then finally speaks. “I had coffee with Evan earlier in the week,” she says, her voice deceptively even. 

 

Connor’s heart sinks. “How is he?” he asks, without even realizing he’s asking it. 

 

“He’s pretty fucking miserable,” Zoe shoots back, her frown deepening. “He said that you told him you loved him then immediately  _ apologized,  _ Connor. What the actual fuck?”

 

“Of course I fucking apologized,” Connor snaps. “I… he thought I was his friend, he thought that we were  _ friends _ and then I go ahead and just fuck that up by falling in love with him, I… I fucked it up. I wish I hadn’t, I’m sorry that I did, I fucking apologized.”

 

“And how would you feel if someone told you they’d fallen in love with you but wishes they hadn’t?” Zoe says. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Connor can feel heat prickling behind his eyelids. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’d fucked it up, he’d…

 

Fuck. 

 

“He thinks you don’t want anything to do with him,” Zoe presses. “He’s… he’s miserable that he’s lost his best friend and doesn’t know why.”

 

“I don’t wish I hadn’t fallen in love with him,” Connor tries to explain. “I mean, I do, but only because he… only because he doesn’t love me, only because we had rules and we… he’s the most fucking important person in my life and he  _ doesn’t love me _ and I…”

 

Fuck. 

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

 

Connor sits at the kitchen table and takes a shaky breath and buries his hand in his face. 

 

And just…

 

Breaks. 

 

And it’s completely mortifying because he hasn’t cried in front of his sister like this since they were kids, since they were really, really young. He hasn’t cried in front of anyone in years, except his mom and…

 

Except Evan, and he’s ruined it. He’s completely ruined it. 

 

Connor can hear his sister swear gently and pull up a chair next to him and sit down and she tentatively puts her hand on his shoulder and it just makes him cry more, and this is embarrassing and awful and it’s all his fault and he doesn’t have the right to be crying about this, he’s the one that ruined it, he’s the one that broke it and then Zoe’s pulling him into a hug and he just sobs into her shoulder until his head hurts and he’s run out of tears. 

 

It takes him a while to stop shaking once he’s finished crying, and even longer to get the nerve to show his face, which is currently buried in Zoe’s shoulder. When he finally, finally, finally gets the courage to move out of the hug, Zoe looks horribly, horribly sad and it almost sets him off again, but instead he wipes his face as best he can and blinks a few times, trying to get himself under control. 

 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mumbles once he can finally speak again. “That’s… fuck.”

 

Zoe still has her hand on his arm. She squeezes it gently. It takes her awhile to say anything and when she does, her voice is soft and calming. 

 

“You’ve come a long way,” she says quietly. “You’ve come so far that sometimes I forget.”

 

“Forget that I was a fucking basket case when I was a teenager?” Connor says bitterly. 

 

Zoe shakes her head. “Sometimes I forget that you spent a long time really, really lonely.”

 

Connor feels like he might start crying again. He swallows a lump in his throat. “Yeah,” he says, because she’s not wrong. 

 

He can feel that ache of loneliness now. 

 

It’s so much worse when he knows what it’s like not to feel it. 

 

“I don’t know if Evan loves you the way you love him,” Zoe continues. “I don’t. Not for sure. But I do know that he cares about you. That you mean something to him. And I don’t think he wants to throw that away.” She squeezes his arm. “Could you… could you be friends with him if he doesn’t feel the same way you do? Maybe not right away, but… someday, can you see that happening?”

 

Connor tries to imagine never ever seeing Evan again. Never hanging out with him, never talking about books and listening to Evan rant about scrambled eggs in restaurants and question Connor’s culinary choices and hearing him talk about things he’s passionate about and sitting and drinking and making dumb jokes and…

 

“I don’t know,” Connor says honestly. “I don’t… I don’t want to lose him, but I’m pretty sure I already have.”

 

“I don’t think he had enough time to really process it,” Zoe says, frowning a little. “He… maybe he didn’t know, maybe he hadn’t thought about it, and you… you just assumed he didn’t feel the way that you did and it…”

 

Connor doesn’t know anything anymore. 

 

“He left,” Connor says softly. “I made him a coffee and took his shoes out of the freezer and he… he left.”

 

“You took his shoes out of the freezer?”

 

“His feet were hot.”

 

“Right.” 

 

Connor wipes his face again. Looks around the room. 

 

It really is a fucking disaster in here. 

 

Zoe follows his gaze and frowns. “Okay, so there was way more alcohol when I left on Saturday night,” she says frankly. “So maybe… maybe we should put some of this away.”

 

Connor kind of nods and tries to stand up but can’t quite manage it. He’s so tired. Around him, Zoe’s cleaning up, and he knows he should help her but he’s just so fucking drained. 

 

Zoe notices and stops for a moment. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?” she says kindly. “You really do look like shit.”

 

“I haven’t been sleeping,” Connor confesses, and Zoe nods. 

 

“Okay, so… maybe have a nap.”

 

Connor’s too tired to argue. 

 

When he wakes up, it’s nearly six. He heads into the kitchen to find it’s been cleaned, and the curtains are open and there are groceries on the counter and Zoe’s sitting, playing a game on her phone. She looks at him, her expression kind and sympathetic. “How are you feeling?”

 

“A bit better,” he confesses.

 

“I’ll order some food,” Zoe says. “I was going to cook but… you know I don’t really do that.”

 

Connor’s not quite in the right frame of mind to tease her about her disastrous cooking skills. 

 

“Did he seem okay?” Connor can’t help but ask, even though he knows he shouldn’t. Knows that he doesn’t have the right to. “Evan. Did he seem… you said he was sad, but did he seem… okay?”

 

Zoe bites her lip. “He seemed sad,” she says finally. “He’s… confused, and he’s sad, and he misses you. I can tell that he misses you.”

 

Zoe orders Indian food and they eat and talk idly about stupid things for a while, but eventually it gets late and Zoe reluctantly says that she has plans for the evening. 

 

“I could cancel if you need me,” she suggests, but Connor’s already shaking his head, because she shouldn’t be cancelling plans for him, and it’s stupid that he completely melted down on her, because Zoe has a life and friends and shouldn’t be constantly putting everything on hold to check up on him. 

 

“I’m feeling better,” he lies, and it’s maybe a half-lie, because he does feel better for having slept but there’s nothing to be done about the aching, gnawing loneliness in his stomach. 

 

Once Zoe’s gone, Connor tries to find something mindless to watch on Netflix, but his queue is full of series he’s waiting to watch with Evan, or series that he’s in the middle of watching with Evan, or series he’s already watched with Evan, and…

 

Like the fucking asshole he is, he opens up Instagram and goes to Evan’s page, even though he knows he’s got no right to do so. 

 

He feels like he’s falling from the top of a staircase, like he’s landing at the bottom with a crack, as he sees a photo at the top of Evan’s page he hasn’t seen before. 

 

It’s dated from the night before, and there’s Evan and Sabrina, both smiling, genuinely smiling, and Evan’s smile could light up the room and it still does and it physically hurts to see it. 

 

The caption underneath the photo is brief, but it still feels like an electric shock. 

 

_ So happy you’re back in NYC, @Sabrina.Patel. _

 

Of course Evan’s happy that Sabrina’s back. Of course he’s happy, because they’re friends, because Evan is still fucking friends with the ex who broke his heart, whose engagement sent him to the roof of his apartment building, he’s still friends with her. 

 

But Evan’s not Connor’s ex, he’s not Connor’s  _ anything _ and Connor misses him and knows he shouldn’t. 

 

There’s a message underneath from Sabrina, which would be funny in almost any other situation.  _ Worst ex ever. Ugh. Terrible. _

 

Connor knows that he should be logical about this, that it took time and work for Evan and Sabrina to be friends again, and that logically, maybe he and Evan will get there eventually, too, but it’s not the same, because Sabrina and Evan had a Real Relationship, and Connor’s never had that, and he’s probably never going to have that and he’s never minded until now but he’s hit with the feeling that he’s missed his shot, he’s fucked up so badly that Evan’s never going to speak to him again. 

 

And he  _ misses _ him. 

 

He misses him so fucking much. 

 

Connor doesn’t have the right to miss Evan, but he does. 

 

He goes to the cabinet over the sink where Zoe’s stored the alcohol and takes out a bottle of wine, then settles in to watch stupid YouTube videos and drink until it stops hurting as much.

 

When he finally goes to bed, his last thought it that he’s glad Evan’s happy. 

 

He wants Evan to be happy.


	20. September, Part I (One Year and Seven Months Later)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were a lot of things that Evan knew. And it kept coming back to two simple things.

Evan was fucking miserable. Just utterly miserable. 

He had gone from lost and confused, to sad and heartbroken, to just fucking pissed off about the Connor situation over the last few weeks. 

Evan’s angry thoughts got the better of him during a session with Marcia. He had probably used up half of the session rambling about how unfair this was, about how they had a good thing going, he and Connor. They were best friends, they both got mutually fulfilling sex out of it. Why did he have to fuck it up and think he was in love with Evan? He didn’t know what being in love even was, he’d never even dated anyone. Couldn’t he tell Evan was like fundamentally unlovable? Didn’t he know that he was the most important person in Evan’s life and just quitting on him hurt?

Shit. 

Marcia leaned forward in her armchair, her brows furrowed. “I’d like you to say more about that.”

“About what?” Evan said breathlessly. 

“You said that you were ‘fundamentally unlovable.’” She tapped the top of her clipboard with her pen. “Do you believe that?”

Evan felt like he was choking, losing his breath, his eyes suddenly flooding with angry and embarrassed tears. Fucking Marcia could literally never let one goddamn thing slide. Not one single thing. “No, I mean, obviously, like… I mean my mom loves me, and, you know, I’ve got some friends who’d say that. I didn’t. Obviously I didn’t mean that I am unlovable, that’s not what…” It was getting hard to breathe and Evan reached up frantically to loosen his tie, unbutton the first button on his shirt. “It’s just. Connor’s just… he’s obviously. He’s wrong, clearly.”

“He’s wrong about being in love with you?”

“I mean. Probably,” Evan muttered, frustrated. “I just… He’s never even been in a real relationship and even if he actually did have real feelings for me, he… regrets it so.”

“Because he said he was sorry?”

“I mean yeah. Obviously. Why else would he be sorry?”

Marcia gave him a pointed look. “I can’t answer that for you. But I can ask you to… consider the terms of the relationship you had established.”

Evan knew it was probably very impolite to be visibly angry with his therapist but he didn’t care. “We said… we said we’d stop sleeping together if it got weird or if one of us wanted to stop. And instead of telling me it got weird, he fucking dumped this on me.”

“And by ‘weird’?”

Evan glowered. “If… if things  _ changed _ , if…”

“Evan, we’ve spent a lot of time in here talking about how change can be… a struggle for you.” She had knit her eyebrows together tightly, adjusted her glasses. “Stop me if I’m wrong here, but is it possible that the reason you’re angry with Connor isn’t because he told you about his feelings, or even that he apologized for having them, but that he initiated a change in your relationship? He redefined the terms.”

Evan felt the swell of anger that had been propelling him along suddenly and pathetically deflate. “I…” He felt his throat grow tight and his eyes burn. “I thought… I thought if this happened we could talk about it.”

“So you thought it was a possibility?”

“I… kind of hoped?” Evan said pathetically, looking down into his lap. He grabbed a tissue, wiped his nose, and folded it into smaller and smaller squares, hating how wasteful it was and how he was still too self-conscious to invest in a handkerchief. “I just. It seemed like a longshot, because I’m… I’m  _ me _ and. I… I knew how I felt, but I didn’t think it would ever go anywhere...  And I know he sort of thinks I’m a mess, and-and he tries to look out for me. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to risk what we already had… I was scared it might change things. I guess it hurts that he thought he ought to be sorry? That maybe he loves me but he-he doesn’t want me like that? He doesn’t want to love me? And that he… He didn’t even let me say anything back, he didn’t let me think, he just basically told me to go.”

“And what would you say now?”

“I don’t know,” Evan said. “I don’t… I don’t think he would want to talk to me.”

“What about what you want?” Marcia pressed. 

He shrugged helplessly. “I… If he doesn’t want me, I don’t… It doesn’t matter.”

“It’s admirable that you want to be considerate of Connor’s feelings, Evan, really. But what do  _ you _ want?”

“What I want… isn’t an option,” He said bitterly. 

“How can you be sure?” Marcia said. “From what you’ve said, you haven’t spoken to him. You love him, he loves you-”

“It’s not that simple!”

“I want to challenge that. I think you should have a conversation with Connor before you rule it out entirely.”

“I  _ can’t _ ,” Evan said because he couldn’t. “I’ve never been good at this sort of thing, I… Feelings are complicated and I. He won’t listen.”

“What would it be like to make him listen?”

“How the hell would I do that?”

Marcia gave Evan a smile that always made him feel like he was a special kind of stupid in her eyes. “Evan. You’re a lawyer. I have a suspicion you could probably make a good case for yourself if you tried.”

Evan knew Marcia was right. 

It was really fucking annoying when she was right. 

He hadn’t let himself even consider talking to Connor, telling Connor that he was in love with him too… It was just easier to say nothing, let Connor cut him out because...

Because if Connor didn’t want him back, if Evan wrecked things more…

But then again, was there a way to wreck this more? Could things actually be worse than not talking, than avoiding each other for weeks, than this miserable garbage existence where Evan was angry and hurting and crying all of the fucking time? 

It literally couldn’t be worse than this. 

He already assumed Connor didn’t want him. The worst that could happen was he knew for sure.

Evan wasn’t sure what his best option was to communicate this so he… started to make notes. 

Evan… he thought better on paper. He wrote things down to make sense of them, he wrote until he could figure the big stuff out. It was easier, being able to cut and paste, to delete and rewrite until his thoughts made sense, until he was sure of himself. It was part of why he liked practicing law so much. There was a certain level of improvisation, of course, but the big stuff, the opening, the closing, the witnesses and the cross, it all followed a script and allowed him to prepare, to think things through and prepare. 

So he started to take notes. 

Evan was a pretty fucking diligent notetaker.  In law school, people used to pay him for his notes because they were thorough and detailed. His law school notes looked like crayon doodles next to this. This wasn’t a pro-con list. It was…

Evan liked to make lists of facts, things that he knew. 

For example, he knew that Connor paid attention. He listened when Evan carried on about work or reusable coffee cups or sustainable farming practices or his stupidly hard opinions on acceptable eggs to order at a restaurant, and he never acted like Evan was annoying or weird for wanting to talk about those things. He listened, he paid attention and asked questions and seemed to actually enjoy doing it. 

And, for another thing, Connor was… passionate. He cared so deeply. He threw himself into taking over the bookstore because it was a place that he loved and he wanted to do a good job with it. He had shadowed Gladys for almost a full year, asking her everything he could think of about how to keep operations running smoothly, requesting her thoughts and opinions about any changes he wanted to make or improvements or expansions he wanted to include. He had spent hours, long, boring hours going over every legal document with Evan, taking notes and keeping files in orderly folders and putting questions he had on post-its and Evan knew that Connor wasn’t usually the sort of person who was quite that organized. It was a testament to how much making the store work meant to him. And that was… adorable and endearing as fuck and it made Evan happy to think about. 

Also, he knew that Connor had understood Evan better than anyone. It wasn’t just because they had both died and come back only to rinse and repeat. It wasn’t just because they could make an inside joke about Alana Beck’s political career being the death of them or even because they had saved each other’s lives. It went deeper than that. It went deeper than dying together or saving each other or even being kids who had struggled to make it to adulthood. It was because he understood what it meant to be lonely. To know how strange and wonderful it was to realize you didn’t have to be lonely anymore, now that you had found someone who understood you. 

Evan could list off a million things he knew about Connor. Things he liked (Connor always smelled like sandalwood, Connor always personally wrote staff recommendations for books he really enjoyed, Connor tipped well in restaurants, Connor wore almost exclusively flannels and sweaters in the winter) and things that drove Evan nuts (Connor ordered scrambled eggs at restaurants sometimes just because he knew it bothered Evan, he had really no concept of what being “broke” actually meant and once genuinely told Evan he “thought” he might have had some student loans from undergrad, he only ate the middle part of Oreos which was RIDICULOUS, Connor hated facebook and that was such a random and unnecessary thing to hate and he still had that damn bong picture as his profile pic).

There were a lot of things that Evan knew. 

And it kept coming back to two simple things. 

Evan loved Connor. 

And Connor loved Evan.

It made Evan feel pretty fucking stupid to think that he had considered just accepting not talking to Connor again. How could he do that when the proof of how much Connor meant to him when it was spelled out and obvious like this?

* * *

It’s been three weeks since the bookstore became officially Connor’s and he hasn’t burned it down yet, which he’s honestly counting as a win.

 

He’s got a routine sorted out and he thinks it’s going to work out for him. He’s figured out how to order groceries online so he doesn’t have to leave the house, even though he’s not really eating these days, and that’s great, that’s fucking fantastic, because it means he won’t have to see Evan or anyone unless they show up at the store and if they do he can just go upstairs until they leave. 

 

In the back of his mind he knows that this isn’t healthy and he shouldn’t be letting himself get to a state of pretty much full on agoraphobia, but then he reasons that he’s not agoraphobic because he sees people every damn day and he talks to them and helps them find books and it leaves him exhausted, completely drained, and he works through the weekends and he drinks in the evenings and he ignores calls from his mom and his sister.

 

There’s an email from his dad nearly two weeks after the official opening and Connor takes ages to open it, because he doesn’t know if he can handle more passive-aggressive disbelief in his ability to fucking run a business. Eventually he caves and all it says is that one of the paralegals at his firm had seen an article about the change of ownership of The Little Book Nook online and wanted to pass on her congratulations. 

 

Which, okay, whatever. Thanks, Larry. 

 

Connor doesn’t reply. Instead, he decides that his bedroom is disgusting and picks up a bunch of clothes from his floor, and it takes him a moment to realize that he’s holding Evan’s suit jacket, and something’s fallen out of the pocket.

 

He freezes for a solid minute as he sees it’s an envelope with his name on it.

 

Fuck.

 

Fuuuuck.

 

Connor puts the envelope on his kitchen table like the masochist he probably is and ignores it for a few more days. It takes half a bottle of rum for him to finally get the guts to open it.

 

It’s a nice envelope. The back says in tiny print that it’s printed on recycled paper. 

 

He can’t help but smile at that, just a little. Of course it is. 

 

Taking a last swig of rum, he carefully opens the envelope and pulls out a card. He immediately laughs, because it’s got a cartoon knife covered with blood and the words “You’re Killing It!” on the front and it’s been ages since he laughed and it feels weird. 

 

It takes him a moment to get the guts to open it, but he eventually does. The message inside reads: 

 

_ CONGRATULATIONS CONNOR!  _

 

_ (Please don’t make fun of my silly caps handwriting, okay? At least not to my face. I know it’s silly. I’ve said silly twice now. Whatever, don’t look at me like that.) _

 

_ I’m seriously so proud of you. All of your hard work has finally paid off and you are officially the owner of a bookstore! That is amazing. You are amazing. You’re genuinely living your dream, and most people are way too scared to even dare to try that. You should be so proud of yourself. I’m proud of you. Did I mention that already? Too bad, now I’m even more proud. _

 

_ Seriously, Connor, you are so brave doing this. Not because you’re taking a stupid risk (I would know, trust me, you’re  _ _ definitely not _ _ ) but because you are so absolutely certain about this plan. Because you haven’t been afraid to do the work. Because you’re amazing and talented and so smart, and you are taking a chance on doing something you might actually get to do and love doing forever. That is so rare and so wonderful, and you should be seriously so proud of yourself. I really hope this makes you insanely, deliriously happy because I can’t think of someone who deserves that kind of happiness more.  _

 

_ I want to thank you so much for letting me play a role in this journey. You are my closest friend and the best person I know, and I am so honored to have been able to help you see this through. This is going to be really great Connor, I can tell.  _

 

_ Congrats again. And please be careful on the stairs.  _

 

_ Evan _

 

Connor closed the card and tries to get his shit together. He’s not going to cry, he’s not going to  _ fucking _ cry, he’s not going to think about the fact that Evan believes in him when his dad still thinks he’s a fucking idiot who’ll run the business to the ground, who’s said he won’t bail him out when he inevitably fails, who acts like it’s obvious that it’s all going to fall apart.

 

He can hear his father’s voice in his head, asking  _ what happens when it all falls apart, Connor? How are you going to cope with it? Are you just going to not get out of bed for a month? Refuse to leave the house? Stop sleeping? Are we going to find you bleeding out in a bathtub again? _

 

Connor’s falling apart and he hates that his dad saw it coming. 

 

Evan believed in him, probably past tense now. Connor is… fuck, he’s a mess, he’s still got time to ruin the bookstore like he ruined his friendship with Evan, and he should…

 

Connor should go see Praveed and pick up a refill of his antidepressants but he literally can’t face leaving the building, not now, not right now, he’ll… he’ll power through, he’ll keep working hard and keep the business from falling apart for another week, another month, and then he’ll do it, then he’ll talk to his therapist and it’ll all be okay. 

 

As okay as he deserves for it to get. 

 

He’s not going to end up bleeding out in a bathtub this time, he’s not.

 

He’s not there. He  _ can’t  _ be there. 

 

He gets a call from Mikhail at Leatherbird, asking if he’s got time to edit a manuscript. Connor probably doesn’t, but it’ll give him something to do outside that doesn’t involve drinking and being sad, so he agrees. 

 

Besides, he genuinely just bought a fucking bookstore. He should probably try to earn as much money as he can to try to prevent going fucking bankrupt because he has no business running a bookstore, because he has no management experience and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and he owes Evan seventy-thousand dollars in legal fees. 

 

He can hear his father’s voice in his head, telling him  _ if it fails, it’s all on you.  _

 

_ It’s like you want to run your life into the ground. _

 

Twenty minutes after the call from Mikhail, he gets a call from Dave. 

 

“You don’t have to do the edit if you don’t want to,” Dave says, sounding more than a little pissed. 

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“You must be crazy busy,” Dave says. “Mikhail shouldn’t have asked, I’m really sorry.”

 

“Seriously, it’s fine,” Connor says, trying not to sound too annoyed. “I can carve out some time and I’m happy to help.”

 

“You shouldn’t feel obligated.”

 

“I don’t. It’s fine. I can handle this.”

 

Dave doesn’t sound convinced. “If you change your mind or if anything comes up, you can tell me,” he says, and Connor can hear the frown in his voice. “I don’t want to make things harder on you, man.”

 

Connor tries not to laugh at that, because Connor’s pretty good at making things hard on himself. 

 

On Friday morning, Maureen calls in sick, and Connor decides that he doesn’t need to call Leslie, he can just work the day by himself. It’s busy - ridiculously busy - and he doesn’t have anyone to cover a lunch break, so he just doesn’t take one. Instead, he makes a coffee every time he gets a free moment and by the time seven o’clock swings round, he’s practically vibrating. 

 

The coffee’s kind of a necessity. He’s on day three of almost entirely avoiding sleeping, and it probably has something to do with going cold turkey on his meds and Zoe is gonna yell at him if she finds out so that’s something he just needs to not mention. He’s got this shaky, sick sort of feeling and there’s this weird buzzing in his head and he doesn’t have time to be coming down with something, he just doesn’t, because if Maureen’s sick today, she might be sick tomorrow and he’ll have to cover her then, and he’s got a deadline for Leatherbird on Sunday so if he has to work Saturday then he might have to pull an all-nighter to get it done, but that probably shouldn’t be a problem because he can’t fucking sleep. 

 

Just before eight, he hears the bell chime when he’s tidying up the children’s section. He sighs internally. He genuinely cannot handle some asshole coming in and spending twenty minutes browsing only to not buy anything. 

 

He moves toward the door. “Sorry, we’re going to close in a-”

 

It feels like a punch to the solar plexus, like falling down a flight of stairs, to see Evan standing in the doorway of his bookstore.

* * *

Evan felt jittery with nervous energy the entire walk over to Connor’s place, suddenly desperate just to say his piece, to see if there was a way out of this bitch of an unsatisfactory situation. He arrived just before 8 o’clock, just before the store closed because Connor often closed up since he had the shortest commute… or so he had always joked.

The bell above the door chimed and Evan noticed that some of the displays had been swapped out and Connor’s voice called out, polite but firm, “Sorry, we’re going to close in a-”

He stepped out from behind one of the bigger shelves and his eyes landed on Evan and his mouth snapped closed. He didn’t… he didn’t look great. He was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a bit frizzy and pulled back into a bun, like he had run out of conditioner. Connor didn’t look good. 

“Hi,” Evan said. He wanted to drag Connor up to his apartment and make him sleep, just sleep, for at least twelve hours. He wanted to make sure he ate something, like something substantial because Evan wouldn’t be shocked if he found out Connor hadn’t eaten much but takeout and peanut butter in weeks. He wanted to pull Connor into a hug and tell him everything would be fine, even though he had no evidence to support that claim. He wanted to take care of this and fix it because Evan always wanted to fix things. 

But that wasn’t why he was here. 

He had to deal with… what he wanted. 

“I… can I talk to you? When you’re finished here?” He asked Connor and Connor nodded. 

“Just let me… just let me lock up.”

Evan nodded and stayed put and waited as Connor flipped the sign on the door to “CLOSED” and locked the door and killed the main lights. 

Evan let Connor take the lead, through the dimly lit bookstore and up the stairs to his place. Inside, the curtains were all drawn. A few empty bottles of wine, rum, and whiskey sat on the counter. 

Connor made his way to the sofa where he sat down wearily. Evan sat in the chair across from him because he wanted to make sure Connor didn’t feel trapped, boxed in. 

“I’m really sorry,” Connor said after a moment. “I -”

“Connor, please,” Evan said, frowning because he should have expected this. A few weeks apart and Evan was losing his touch. “I… I have some things I have to say, and I want you to please listen and not interrupt or apologize again.”

Connor nodded, saying, “Shit, of course, I’m sorry…” He trailed off. “Sorry. Go on.”

“Thank you,” Evan said, straightening his shoulders and noticing that his own voice came out a lot stronger than he was expecting. “The last two months have been really terrible, Connor. I… you’re my best friend. You are the best friend I’ve ever had. You get me on a level I genuinely thought only existed in books or movies. Which is why I’m so angry at you right now. Because… You know me. You know I,” He took a breath here because it was still hard to say, “I’m bad with change. I struggle with it. So the fact that you dropped out of my life for almost a month and then. I need time to think and process and you… You told me you loved me after we hadn’t talked in weeks. And then you apologized.  You didn’t ask me how I felt about it. You didn’t give me a chance, even a  _ second _ to process that information. You just decided that you should be sorry and you gave me a cup of coffee and basically told me to get lost… And I. I took that to mean you didn’t want to be in love with me, that you… Didn’t want. Me.”

Connor’s eyes looked a bit too wide, a bit too glassy, and Evan would genuinely fucking lose it if he cried or something. “I didn’t-”

“I’m the one talking right now,” Evan said. “And I’m not finished. I know that I am… I’m not the most together person. I’m scared of change and I panic easily. I’m not good at relationships and I make rules and then turn around and break them, and I know that I am part of the problem here. I know I made things confusing, and I am really, truly sorry. But…If I’m wrong. If you weren’t saying that… that you weren’t interested in me...” 

Evan stopped. Frowned slightly, because he was thinking, he was trying to explain as best he could what the issue here was. “Connor, my point is that you don’t get to decide for me how this ends up. I’m a part of this too, and I deserve a say. I think it’s really shitty that you didn’t give me that when you told me. But I think I understand why you handled it the way you did. I might be wrong, but. You’re always trying to protect me Connor. Always. And when we first started to spend time together, I will be the first to admit that I probably needed someone who would watch out for me, keep an eye on me and try to shield me from big, life-altering changes because I was in no shape to handle that. And I am really really grateful that you were there and that you did that for me. I can’t even express how much it meant to me to have someone who just… cared that much.” Evan frowned a little more. “But I don’t need that from you anymore. And I don’t need you to protect me from you. You’re my best friend. You’re the best, most important person in my life and… you’re not protecting me by disappearing. You’re not making things easier or helping. It just hurts.”

Connor nodded, and he opened his mouth and it took a lot of restraint for Evan not to groan and tell him to shut up. Instead he just… didn’t let Connor get a word in edgewise. He kept going. He made him listen. 

“Connor, I’m fucking miserable without you. I think about you all of the time. I miss you constantly. And it’s not just because you’re my best friend or because you are unbelievably good at sex. It’s because I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for… for a long time. A really long time. And I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you the moment that I realized, I just. I convinced myself that there was no possible way that you could ever feel the same way about me and I was scared to risk what we already had, because you know how I get… I’ve got my foot on the brakes before I even turn the key, I get so freaked out about screwing up anything good that I can get… paralysed. And I was so fucking lonely before we met, just lonely all of the time, and I was terrified that I might lose you. So I didn’t say anything. I buried it, and I didn’t tell you, and… I know that that wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for keeping that to myself. But I… Connor, I’m in love with you and I’m not sorry about it, okay? And I don’t know what you want or if you even want to speak to me ever again, but I wanted you to know. Because if there is even the slightest chance that something good could come out of this, then. I figured it was worth the risk.” 

Evan took a deep breath. 

“Okay. You can talk now.”

* * *

Now that Evan’s said he can talk, Connor’s not sure what to say.

 

He’s quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what’s the right response. 

 

He wants to apologize for fucking up something so important so badly, he wants to apologize a thousand more times, he wants to ask if Evan’s sure, if he’s  _ sure _ , but…

 

This is Evan. Of course he needed time to process. Of course he needed time to think and figure things out. 

 

Connor should have  _ known _ that. Connor should have...

 

Evan is the kind of person who takes his time to process and figure things out, but once he’s made a decision, he’s made it. He’s sure. Logically, Connor knows he shouldn’t question that. 

 

And the fact that Evan’s  _ here _ , that he’s come to see Connor and talk to him and lay himself bare and tell him that he loves him after everything…

 

Evan loves him. 

 

Evan said he loves  _ him. _

 

“I’m… I’m not sorry I’m in love with you,” Connor says finally, and he doesn’t think the words are coming out right but he needs Evan to know, because if Evan thought Connor didn’t want to be in love with him because there was something  _ wrong _ with him that’s… “That’s not… that wasn’t what I was sorry about. I… I fucked the whole thing up but I… I was  _ never _ sorry for… it wasn’t because I didn’t  _ want _ to be in love with you, it was because I didn’t… I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

 

“I do,” says Evan, and it’s like a challenge.  “I really, really do.” His expression softens and there’s something in Connor’s chest that twists in a way that’s almost painful but in the best way.

 

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” Connor says in a rush. “I just… I didn’t know how to deal with how I felt and I thought you… I thought you wouldn’t  _ want _ me to, that you wouldn’t want  _ me _ , that I’d fucked up _ … _ and there was so much to do with the store takeover and my fucking asshole dad said I…” He trails off as he remembers that he hadn’t told Evan about that,  _ deliberately _ hadn’t told Evan about that conversation with his dad in May, because he hadn’t wanted Evan to know, he hadn’t wanted Evan to know that his own father thought so little of him, that his own father thought he would fail. “That’s not important,” he rushes to explain, and Evan’s eyes narrow and Connor tries to backtrack. “It’s been a rough few months,” Connor admits. “I, uh, I handled it badly. I handled everything badly. I’m sorry.”

 

Evan just looks at him, really looks at him, sizing him up and Connor knows he can see everything from the sleep deprivation to the fact that he hasn’t replaced his conditioner to the shirt he’s wearing that he never usually wears because it doesn’t fit right but he hasn’t done laundry in a while because he’s just so tired. There is something in his eyes that makes Connor feel like he’s being seen right through. 

 

“Have you been taking your meds?” Evan asks gently.

 

Connor’s too embarrassed to answer. He just looks away. 

 

Evan keeps going, still gently but persistent. “Do you… do you need to make an appointment to see Praveed? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

 

“Meds ran out,” Connor mumbles, and he’s absolutely fucking mortified because usually it’s him asking Evan these questions and he’s the one who’s got it together and this is embarrassing and he’s an  _ idiot _ for letting it get this bad, it is only just starting to dawn on him how bad this actually is. 

 

Evan’s going to realize any second how much of a mess he is and he’s going to take it all back. All the things he said. 

 

“Oh Connor,” says Evan gently, and Connor bites his lip hard so he doesn’t cry. 

 

Connor clears his throat. “I’d get it if you wanted to-”

 

“Don’t,” Evan interrupts, and this isn’t gentle at all. “Don’t… don’t tell me what I want, don’t… don’t you fucking dare try to tell me that I should go or that I shouldn’t have to deal with this or anything else that’s going through your head right now, okay? I love you. I  _ love _ you and that’s not… not a word I throw around lightly.”

 

“I love you,” Connor replies, because he doesn’t have to think about it, it’s just automatic. “And I’ve missed you so fucking much and I’ve been miserable without you.”

 

Evan’s face softens again. He stands up, then takes a seat on the sofa next to Connor. 

 

Takes his hand gently.

 

Squeezes it tightly.

 

“I think this is about more than just you and me,” Evan says, his voice so, so gentle. “I mean, these last few months have fucking sucked and we’ve both missed each other, that’s true, but I think how you’re feeling right now isn’t just about what happened between us.”

 

Connor nods, because Evan’s right. 

 

He’s let it slide. Let all of it slide. Completely ignored his mental health and stopped taking his meds and stopping seeing his therapist and…

 

It could have all gotten worse.

 

He’s not there, not back in that dark place he was as a teenager, but he recognises this road and…

 

_ Are we going to find you bleeding out in a bathtub again? _

 

He takes in a shuddering breath.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and Evan frowns. 

 

Opens his mouth. 

 

Closes it. 

 

Takes in a visible breath. 

 

“I think this could work,” Evan says finally. “You and I, together? If it’s… if it’s what you want, then I think we could work, I honestly do and you know me, you know I’m… not usually an optimist.” Connor laughs a little, and Evan continues. “But you have to go back on your meds and talk to your therapist and start taking care of yourself, okay? I want this to work and I honestly, truly think it could, because I love you so, so much, and you are so important to me, but you have to… you have to be okay. You have to want to be okay.”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, because he knows Evan’s right. He sighs. “What does… I don’t, do we… do you want me to…” 

 

He can’t find the words. 

 

Evan squeezes his hand again. “You were there for me when I was at my lowest,” he says simply. “It’s not… not even a question I’ll be there for you. But we… we take it slow, okay? We take it slowly and we focus on both being… being healthy and happy, and we… we just try to be patient, and careful, and… if it’s what you want, then-”

 

“It’s what I want,” Connor says immediately. Squeezes Evan’s hand. “I want… I want to be with you, and I want to be okay.”

 

“Okay,” says Evan, nodding like it’s simple. “That’s… that’s good, we can work with that.”

 

Then Evan is pulling him close and kissing him and it’s like the sun, like a warm cup of coffee and a good book and a comfortable chair and the sun, warming him through and clearing out the shadows and the dust, and he’s hit with the feeling that everything is going to be okay. 

 

And it’s not that he doesn’t feel that spark he’s always felt with Evan, it’s not that he doesn’t feel that connection and that heat and that... fucking magic that he’s always felt when Evan’s lips are on his, but it’s softer and instead of burning hot it’s warm and welcoming and tender and Connor is overwhelmed. 

 

He deepens the kiss, trying to get as close to Evan as he can, sliding his hands up Evan’s shirt, and he’s missed him, he’s missed him so fucking much. He’s missed him more than he even really understood and appreciated and he’s a fucking idiot and…

 

“Connor,” says Evan, and he’s breathless but he’s gentle. He pulls away, just a little, and his eyes are warm and soft. 

 

“Come to bed with me,” Connor says, trying to pull Evan closer, and he’s breathless, too.

 

“Believe me, I want to,” Evan says, with warm, concerned eyes, “but you’re in no shape for sex right now.”

 

Connor feels his face go hot and he pulls away and he’s embarrassed and he’s fucked this up and-

 

“Hey,” says Evan firmly, not letting him go. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Connor feels his eyes sting painfully and he blinks a few times, trying desperately not to cry. Evan reaches out and tucks his hair behind his ear.

 

Kisses his cheek.

 

Then kisses his lips, and compared to every other kiss they’ve shared, it’s almost chaste.

 

“We’ve got time,” Evan says simply. “We have so much time.”

 

“I love you,” Connor says. Explains. Even though it’s obvious, even though it’s painfully obvious and he should have figured it out a long time ago. 

 

“I love you, too,” Evan says, and he smiles like it’s funny.

 

“I’m a fucking idiot.”

 

Evan scrunches up his nose fondly. “A little, yeah. But I can be, too.”

 

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” Connor confesses in a rush. “I don’t… I don’t know how to do any of this. I’ve never… I’ve never done this, I’ve never done the whole relationship thing, I don’t know what I’m doing so you’re going to have to tell me if I fuck it up.”

 

“I will,” says Evan, and Connor believes him. 

* * *

They sat there on Connor’s sofa for a long time, Evan holding Connor’s hand and Connor smiling, just a little. He still looked too tired, too worn out. It tugged at Evan’s heartstrings. He hadn’t been there for Connor. He hadn’t been there, he hadn’t noticed, he could have… he should have been there.

Holding hands with Connor was… unusual. They hadn’t done it much, in the past. Sometimes one of them would reach out and squeeze the other’s hand. And when they finally managed to yank themselves out of the death loops, Connor had held his hand under a streetlamp while the snow fell and in retrospect, that was pretty fucking romantic. Same could be said for the time that Connor had stayed the night after they tried and failed to have drinks with Sabrina and Evan had totally melted down. Evan had held Connor’s hand until Connor fell asleep. It was nice, getting to try it out now. Connor had long fingers. His nails were short, cut bluntly. He seemed to like it when Evan’s thumb traced little circles across the first knuckle. And his hands were sort of cold. Cold enough that Evan sort of wanted to take them both and rub them between his, blow on them even. It was September, still technically summer, and Connor had cold hands. 

“What would you say if I stayed over?” Evan asked, suddenly, feeling a bit bolder now that they had talked and he hadn’t ruined everything. 

“I thought you said -”

“Not for sex,” Evan said, smiling a little. “I could just. Sleep here. Stay with you. If that’s okay.”

Connor looked away, like he was suddenly shy. “Okay. Yeah, I’d… I’d like that.” 

“Okay.” He checked his watch, and it was just after nine. “I should run home first.” Connor looked confused, maybe even scared, like he had suddenly changed his mind. “To get my meds. And some of my own pajamas because your pants are way too long on me.” Connor gave him a reluctant smile. “I love you, but I’m serious about us trying to be healthy about this. So. I’m going to go home and grab my meds.” He took a breath. “Is that okay?”

Connor nodded. “You don’t have to come back.”

Evan shook his head. “Of course I don’t have to. I want to.” He took a breath because breathing was important. “Do you… Is my name still on your account? For your meds?”

Connor nodded again. 

“Then I’ll pick those up too.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, you don’t-”

“I want to,” Evan repeated. He pressed a kiss to Connor’s cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?” He stood up and asked if he could borrow the set of keys Connor kept on a hook by the door, and Connor said it was fine, so Evan slipped them into his pocket and said he wouldn’t be long. 

“Be safe,” Connor said quietly and Evan had to turn back and kiss him properly because he just couldn’t help it. It was nothing like the last time he left this apartment. And he needed Connor to know that.

“I love you.”

Connor broke out in a smile, a proper one which actually reached his eyes. “I love you too.” 

“Be back soon.” Evan closed the door behind him softly, then made his way out of the apartment and through the bookstore, locking up behind him, arming the alarm because he had known the code for ages now. He looked both ways before he crossed the street and turned to head toward his apartment, smiling to himself because. 

It wasn’t perfect of course. 

But things had gone a lot better than he had hoped. 

When he got to his place, Evan found Mattie and Alex cuddled up on the sofa. Alex was dozing off, her head on Mattie’s chest. “Long day?” Mattie asked him quietly. 

“Yeah,” Evan answered honestly. “But a good one. Sort of. Mixed bag, really.” He smiled, sheepishly. “I’m not staying, I just came back to grab some things. I’m staying at Connor’s tonight.”

“So you talked?” She asked, eyebrows going up. 

“We did.” Evan smiled. “It went pretty well.” He frowned. “Connor’s not… doing great though.”

“I’m so pleased to hear that the talk went okay,” She said and she sounded like she meant it and Evan gave her a smile because he was just giving those away now. “I hope he feels better soon.” 

“Thanks,” Evan said, and then he headed to his bedroom. He scooped up his backpack and threw in his NYU School of Law t-shirt (because Connor had once told Evan it looked good on him and even if they weren’t having sex tonight Evan wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to look good for Connor) and a pair of sweats. Then he grabbed some clothes for the next day, immediately glad that tomorrow was Saturday and he could just exist in jeans and a t-shirt. Evan grabbed his meds from his nightstand, his laptop, and the book he had been reading the last few weeks because… well he didn’t know what the night would have in store and he figured it was better to have it than to have to steal something off of one of Connor’s shelves because the last time he had done that, Connor had kept him up all night discussing it and the goal here was to make Connor get some sleep. 

Once he was packed, Evan headed back out of the apartment and checked his phone. Connor had texted him several times. 

_ “I’m really sorry about all of this. I know you probably weren’t expecting me to be such a fucking mess and I’m really, really sorry.” _

_ “Like I know I fucked up and you shouldn’t have to clean up my mess.” _

_ “You don’t have to come back if you don’t want.” _

Evan just ignored the messages because he wanted to go back and he wasn’t going to be convinced otherwise. He made his way to the pharmacy smack in the middle of their two places. He and Connor had been here together a number of times. Once, on a Friday evening, not long after they had started talking because Evan had been too anxious to pick up his new meds and Connor had offered to come with him. Another time in the middle of the night in January after the pair of them had honestly had so much sex that they had run out of condoms and nearly out of lube. And once at the beginning of the summer when they both wanted bomb pops and the bodega close to Evan’s place didn’t have them so they walked and got them and the popsicle had turned Connor’s lips blue and it had taken a lot of energy not to kiss him right there on the street. 

On his way toward the pharmacy, Evan had to walk through the aisle with all of the shampoo and conditioner and stopped suddenly, remembering the frizziness of Connor’s hair when he had seen him. Connor had clearly run out of conditioner. And he wasn’t doing well, so Evan wouldn’t have been terribly surprised if he just hadn’t… left the building in a while. He worked where he lived. 

Evan wished he could fix it but he knew that wasn’t how these things worked. He couldn’t just fix it. There was no way to be a knight in shining armor about mental health. He couldn’t fix this but. He could make it easier. He could help. 

Evan wanted to help. So he found Connor’s usual brand of conditioner and picked up an economy-sized bottle. 

So then Connor wouldn’t need to worry about that. He could take something small off of his plate. It was small but it was something easy Evan could do right now. 

Evan headed back to the pharmacy and waited in a short line to pick up Connor’s prescription. 

“Looks like he’s a bit late on this refill,” The pharmacy tech said and Evan just shrugged like he didn’t know why and paid for the pills and the conditioner. 

Evan made one last stop on his way back to Connor’s place to pick up some Thai food because Evan would bet any money that Connor hadn’t eaten a decent meal in a while and Evan even had them add some extra veggies to Connor’s because of a not-so-irrational fear that Connor probably hadn’t eaten a vegetable in at least a week. He also ordered a second and third option, because he wasn’t sure what Connor would want to eat and he figured, worst case, then there would be leftovers for the next day. 

All of the errands run, Evan made his way back to Connor’s place. It was a short enough walk, but as he got close he spotted a figure under a streetlight, strumming a guitar. 

“Otis?” Evan called, hurrying closer to him. 

He looked up, surprised, and stopped playing. “Do I know you?”

“Yes. No. I have no idea,” Evan said, sort of breathless. “How are you?”

Otis shrugged. “Here now. Gone tomorrow.”

“Right.”

“And you?”

Evan caught himself grinning rather stupidly. “I… I’m in love, it turns out.”

“Congrats.” 

“Thanks.”

Evan fished in his wallet for some money to give to Otis and then asked if he had anything to eat that day. When Otis shrugged, Evan handed over over one of the extra meals he had picked up from the Thai restaurant and a plastic fork he hadn’t noticed was in the bag until now. “Here.”

“Thanks?” Otis looked bewildered. 

“Be safe, okay?”

And then Evan hurried across the street to The Little Book Nook and let himself in with Connor’s key. He locked the door behind him and armed the alarm and then made his way up the stairs and let himself into Connor’s place. 

Inside, things were… a little neater. A little tidier than they had been. Connor must have cleaned up a little. Connor was on the phone, his voice a little too tired and a little too strained, saying, “Thanks, yeah, I appreciate it. Thanks.”

“Hi,” Evan said, setting the food on the counter. 

Connor turned to him, his face betraying a level of surprise. He had changed into his pajamas. “You’re back.”

“I brought Thai food,” he said. “Have you eaten? If you have I’ll just put it in the fridge so you don’t have to cook tomorrow.”

“I haven’t…” 

“Yeah? Okay well. I brought you that yellow curry you liked with the sweet potatoes and some Pad Thai.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Connor said, looking sort of… embarrassed. 

“How many times have you brought me food over the last year and a half?” Evan said, rolling his eyes. “It’s just food.”

“Thanks,” Connor said, and he still seemed weird and uncertain like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself, and normally Connor seeming weird meant Evan got weird and they’d just soak up each other’s weird for a while until someone broke the tension but. 

Evan had a job to do here, and so he smiled at Connor and crossed the room and kissed him on the cheek and said, “I love you” and kissed Connor again. 

“I love you too,” Connor said and he was smiling a little, and that was something. “I should… Thank you for getting food.”

“Of course.” He smiled at Connor again. “I’m going to change out of my work clothes, okay?”

“I have some clothes of yours,” Connor said and then looked like maybe he regretted mentioning it. “You left some suits here?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Evan said and decided now was not the right time to tell Connor he had just assumed he would never get those back when he left them. “I guess I’ll take them back with me when I leave.” He ducked into the bathroom and changed into his own pajamas, stopping to place the bottle of conditioner on the lip of the tub where he knew Connor would see it.  Then went to stow his backpack in Connor’s room. It was obvious that Connor had just made the bed. And changed the sheets if the pile of laundry on top of his hamper was any indication. He had made such an effort and it made Evan’s insides twist funnily, because even when he wasn’t doing well, Connor had tried this hard for him and. 

That was something. 

He went and joined Connor at the kitchen table where he was sort of picking at his food, mostly pushing the noodles around in their plastic container until he noticed Evan noticing and put a bite in his mouth. 

Evan knew how sometimes being sick in your brain could make you feel sick to your stomach. It could destroy your appetite and you would wake up on a Thursday realizing you had had sleep for dinner every night that week and felt gross and embarrassed but also too physically tired to eat more than a few bites. 

He got it and he wasn’t going to push. He was just glad Connor ate something. 

“Thanks again for the food,” Connor said eventually. Evan smiled at him, trying to look encouraging and not condescending or scared. “I… I kind of thought maybe you wouldn’t come back. I know…” Connor glanced around, a little embarrassed. “I know how this makes me look and I’m sorry I…”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Evan said instead. “You said… that since May or June, you’ve let some stuff slide. Do you want to talk about it?”

Connor shrugged. “I just. I really didn’t want to fuck up things with the store… or with you and I sort of. Got lost.”

“I get that,” Evan said because it was something he really, truly, understood. In his core. You could so easily get lost inside of yourself if you didn’t stay diligent. 

“I’m sorry that I avoided you,” Connor said. 

“Okay,” Evan said. “I’m sorry that I didn’t… check in more. When that happened. I got it in my head that I had done something to upset you and thought maybe you wanted space.”

“I literally never want space from you.”

Evan smiled and just barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He cleared his throat, focusing. “You said your dad said something?”

Connor looked down at his foot. “Just, you know. Bitter and pessimistic Larry for you.” He shrugged. “He just… Said I was wasting my time and...”

“He did?”

“Yeah.” Connor shrugged like it didn’t matter when it clearly did. 

“No offense,” Evan said slowly because inside he was raging, he was going to Larry Murphy’s office to wallpaper the windows with highlighted copies of that man’s many (many, many) typos and then punching him in his smug face. “But your dad is an asshole.”

Connor smiled, almost, and nodded. “I know I shouldn’t let it get to me…”

Evan waved that off. “Dads get under your skin. I get it. Sometimes, you just can’t stop it from getting to you.” 

Connor nodded. “I don’t really want to talk about it yet, if that’s okay.”

“Okay.” Evan reached over to take Connor’s hand and give it a squeeze. “Well…when you want to. If you want to.”

“Thanks.”

Evan cleaned up the food and he and Connor retreated to Connor’s room where Connor switched on some show they had been half watching on Netflix over the past few months. They climbed into bed and got under the covers, the cool night air creeping in through the open window making it just cold enough that covers were needed. They stayed on their separate sides, holding hands, for the first episode. Connor scooted a little closer during the second, and by the third, he was resting his head on Evan’s chest and Evan had wrapped his arms around him. 

“Is this okay?” Connor asked. “I know you don’t… really like cuddling?”

“It’s great,” Evan said because it was. It was great. He wasn’t much for cuddling, but he was all in for Connor, so that meant Connor could use him as a pillow any time. He pulled Connor to him a little bit tighter and pressed a kiss into the top of his head. “I love you.”

Evan was not an optimistic person. He wasn’t. By nature, he was a pessimist. Always preparing for a disaster he was sure was on the horizon. He was an environmental lawyer not because he thought that he could save the planet, but more because he wanted the people wrecking it to be, like, really inconvenienced while they did it. He didn’t daydream about happy endings. He barely daydreamed at all… it was more like daytime nightmares. Daymares? He was always ready to hit the brakes and speed off in the other direction because he was always convinced that he would ruin things. 

But.

It wasn’t that that part of him had suddenly gone silent. Confessing your love to someone did not cure anxiety disorders. 

But that voice in his head was a hell of a lot quieter about this. About Connor. He could really see this going somewhere, being something.

* * *

There’s a part of Connor that doesn’t want to fall asleep. He doesn’t want to fall asleep, because a part of him is terrified that he’s actually imagined what’s happening right now. He’s imagined that Evan’s here, he’s imagined that Evan came back to his apartment with food and his medication and even fucking conditioner (he saw an economy bottle of his conditioner in the bathroom that was definitely not there before and had this moment of intense embarrassment, because when they’d first “met” back when they were dying Evan had made a joke about his lack of hair care in high school and usually Connor actually tries to keep his hair nice because it makes him feel better about himself but he’d let it slide, he’d fucked it up).

 

But Evan’s here, in his bed, and they’ve never done this before, they’ve never just climbed into bed to watch Netflix without some kind of emergency involved like Evan getting alcohol poisoning or the whole looming threat of death thing, it was always on the sofa in the living room or the kitchen, or in the living room in Evan’s apartment if his roommates weren’t home, and it’s all completely new and Connor feels warm all the way through him, because he’s wanted this for so long but didn’t even realize it. 

 

He honestly hadn’t thought Evan would come back. 

 

He wouldn’t have blamed Evan if he hadn’t come back. 

 

The moment Evan left, Connor had just been hit with this absolute certainty that he’d fucked it up even more, that Evan was going to change his mind, that he’d just… lied to save Connor’s feelings. He’d had to take a moment to tell himself that was probably the fucked up brain chemistry talking, that was just his head, that was just mental illness, that was just the dark part of his brain taking over, the paranoia and fear that he remembers so well. 

 

Still, he’d texted Evan and told him he didn’t have to come back, he was sorry for fucking up, that it wasn’t Evan’s job to take care of him, and it didn’t make him feel any better. Any less fucking mortified that Evan had had to see this. 

 

Then he’d realized just how fucking disgusting his apartment was. So he’d forced himself to tidy up. Clean up the empty bottles of alcohol which he’s horrified Evan had to see, clean up the pizza boxes and the obvious signs of grocery delivery rather than having left the house, and way more styrofoam than Connor’s comfortable with, which he definitely has to hide from Evan because Evan’s a fucking environmental lawyer and Connor is killing the whales. 

 

He’d actually had to stop for a moment then and remind himself that he’s being fucking ridiculous. He has never actually killed a fucking whale. 

 

Connor hadn’t believed that Evan was coming back, not really, but he’d hoped. He’d really hoped. So he’d changed the sheets on his bed, because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that, and made the bed and opened the window and let the place air out, then opened the curtains in the kitchen and the living room, and it’s starting to get properly dark out but the place still feels lighter. 

 

And then he’d changed into his pajamas and sat down, and realized how exhausted he was. 

 

Debated just… crawling into bed, because of course Evan wasn’t coming back, it was stupid of him to think so, it was stupid of him to expect him to, but…

 

Maureen had texted to say she was still sick, and Connor had realized, at that moment, that he didn’t have the energy to work the next day. 

 

That if he tried to open the store tomorrow, he would probably collapse, or completely meltdown, and that scared the shit out of him because he’d realized then just how close to breaking point he was. 

 

Is. 

 

He’d called Leslie, who in all honesty sounded glad he’d called. 

 

“I could use the money,” Leslie confessed. “Strudel needs surgery.”

 

Connor hadn’t known that. “Is Strudel okay?”

 

“It’s not life-threatening,” Leslie had assured Connor. “It’s this thing with his eyelid that needs to be surgically corrected because it’s giving him tons of eye infections. Apparently it’s a thing that happens to basset hounds sometimes.”

 

“I’m sorry, that sucks.”

 

“It’s okay,” Leslie had replied. “Do you need me on Sunday as well?”

 

Connor had hesitated, but in the end had realized that if he was going to get some editing done, he’d need Sunday off and he has no guarantee Maureen will be back in action. “Actually, yeah, if you don’t mind being on standby? I don’t know how Maureen is doing.”

 

“Not a problem,” Leslie had said, and she’d sounded a little concerned. “You sound kind of wiped, dude.”

 

“Yeah,” Connor admitted. “It’s, uh, I haven’t been sleeping well.”

 

“That’s rough,” Leslie had said, her voice sympathetic. “You know I’m always happy to help out if I can, right?”

 

“Thanks, yeah, I appreciate it,” said Connor, knowing how pathetic he must sound but not actually caring. “Thanks.”

 

The call finished and he’d turned to see Evan had come back and he’d barely believed it. 

 

Evan had come back. 

 

Evan came back. 

 

And now Connor’s in bed, curled up against Evan, who doesn’t like cuddling but assures him that it’s okay, and Evan’s heartbeat is warm and steady and Connor feels like this can’t possibly be real, and he wants to question it, he wants to prepare himself for waking up tomorrow and realizing it was a dream, he wants to soak in all of this because it’s everything he’s ever wanted and stay awake but Evan is warm and solid and comfortable and he hasn’t slept much in three days and he is so, so exhausted, and he finds himself drifting off before he can stop himself. 

* * *

Connor had fallen asleep and Evan was relieved. Up close, Evan could see that Connor had dark circles under his eyes, that his skin looked concerningly pale, and the stubble on his chin was longer than he usually allowed it to get.

He was still gorgeous, of course. Connor could be gorgeous with the stomach flu and warts on his nose in Evan’s eyes, but it still hurt to see him look so worn down and exhausted. It was a little… scary, honestly, to see someone sleeping still look so tired. And Connor was so still in his sleep that Evan caught himself listening carefully a few times to make sure Connor was still breathing. 

Evan’s arm started to lose feeling after a while, but he didn’t dare try to move Connor off of him. He very very carefully flexed his fingers, shook out his hand, trying to bring the feeling back without Connor waking up. He stayed still for another half an hour, his arm going totally numb, just to be sure that Connor actually slept, actually rested. Evan eventually had to get up to take his meds and brush his teeth, but thankfully Connor slept through him climbing out of the bed. 

Evan went into the bathroom and his heart did a strange twist when he saw that Connor had left the extra blue toothbrush, the one he had gotten Evan, in the holder by the sink. Part of him had been convinced that Connor would have thrown it away in the weeks they were apart. But he hadn’t. And that gave Evan… a strange sort of hope. That despite their shared idiocy, Connor hadn’t totally given up on him.

Evan took his meds and then brushed his teeth, something he had done dozens of times in this bathroom, but never in his pajamas and rarely when he planned to stay the night. It felt different this time, knowing Connor was sleeping in the next room, that Connor didn’t want him to leave… 

He looked in on Connor, still fast asleep, his face relaxed, some of his hair having escaped his bun and fallen over the pillow and fuck, Evan was such an idiot for waiting so long to tell Connor how stupidly in love with him he was. Part of him wanted to just climb back into bed, bury his face in Connor’s neck, and stay there forever. 

But Evan had a couple more things to do before he tried to catch some sleep himself…

First, he texted Zoe. He knew Connor wouldn’t be happy about it, but Evan was well aware of his own limits, and as much as he wanted to stick with Connor all day every day until he was doing better, he knew it wasn’t possible. So he texted Zoe, letting her know that Connor had been struggling and did she think maybe she could stop by at some point? 

The last thing Evan did was shut off Connor’s alarm on his phone, because Evan was making damn sure Connor slept in the next day. 

All of that taken care of, Evan quietly returned to Connor’s bedroom and climbed into bed. He shut off the lights. Rolled onto his side to see Connor was still there, still real, still breathing and eventually, Evan fell asleep. 

 

To be completely honest with himself, Evan slept badly. He kept waking up, eyes blinking rapidly, unsure where he was for a moment and then he’d find himself gripped with worry that something was wrong with Connor. 

But Connor slept soundly beside him, his hand having found its way toward Evan’s in the dark. Still breathing, his face relaxed, and Evan relaxed some as well. But sleep remained a challenge, and around eight Evan gave up on sleep. Instead, he got up. Grabbed a quick shower, realizing with a sudden jolt that using Connor’s soap meant he would smell like Connor all day and that was… something. Something good. Something that made Evan smile. Nothing he hadn’t done before but this time it  _ mattered _ . 

After a shower, he decided to tackle some of the laundry piled up in Connor’s hamper. He sorted through it, putting a load of dark clothes in first. He put away a few clean dishes that were drying by the sink, and collected a few bottles that had yet to migrate to the recycling. Evan ended up taking out the trash and recycling, and around nine, thought maybe he ought to check out the state of Connor’s cabinets because Evan knew from personal experience that shopping often took a backseat if your mental health wasn’t great. 

It wasn’t quite as bad as Evan feared, but still the shelves and cabinets were pretty sparsely populated, and the refrigerator appeared not to have much more than some old almond milk and a few beers. 

So Evan made a shopping list on his phone. 

But something held him back from leaving… 

Connor might think he had just left, left. And Evan hated that idea. So, as a precaution, he borrowed a post-it note from the living room and left Connor a note.  _ “Just ran to the grocery store for a few things. I have my phone on me if you need anything.  I’ll be back soon. I love you.” _

Evan’s breath caught at seeing the words in writing, but he pushed that away after a moment, sticking the note to Connor’s phone, knowing he usually checked the time when he first woke up. Then he retreated from the room, snagged a few of the reusable cloth shopping bags Evan had gifted to Connor because he couldn’t believe Connor didn’t own any when he first moved into this place, borrowed Connor’s keys again, and set out. As he was leaving through the store, he caught Leslie on her way inside. 

“Oh,” She sounded surprised. “Good. I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Thanks,” Evan said, a little confused. 

“I just… I. Connor will be happy to see you,” Leslie said diplomatically. 

“How’s he… has he been? Okay?”

Leslie looked embarrassed to be asked. “Honestly? No. He’s been… sad. Down. Sort of… irritable.” 

“I just. If he comes looking for me, will you tell him I just ran to the grocery store?” Evan said. “I just. He could use a few things.”

Leslie smiled at him really brightly. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“I uh. I’m normally the one saying that about him,” Evan said, shrugging. “Thanks.” He headed out of the door, making the short walk to the closest grocery store. It wasn’t an extensive shopping trip, really, but Evan felt better knowing that Connor had actual food to eat in the house now. Mostly things that didn’t require a lot of preparation. A few boxes of granola bars, meals meant to be microwaved, a bunch of bananas because peeling didn’t really take too much energy and Evan had an irrational fear that Connor might somehow give himself scurvy. 

Evan carried the groceries back to Connor’s place, letting himself in through the bookstore. He had picked up coffee for Leslie as a thank you for her covering Maureen that morning and dropped it for her at the register, where she was ringing up a customer. Evan took the rest of the groceries up to Connor’s apartment. 

When he walked in, Evan found Connor at his laptop, frowning sort of helplessly at the screen. “What are you doing?” He asked, as gently as he could. 

* * *

Connor wakes up exhausted, feeling like he might be hungover.

 

It’s too bright. It’s way too bright. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Maureen’s sick, and he has to open the store, and he must have slept through his alarm.

 

He picks up his phone to check the time. There’s a post-it stuck to the screen. He looks at it and it honestly takes a moment for him to figure out what’s going on. 

 

_ Just ran to the grocery store for a few things. I have my phone on me if you need anything.  I’ll be back soon. I love you. _

 

And then he remembers. 

 

Evan. 

 

Evan came over after work and he loves Connor and he stayed last night, he left for a while but then he stayed, and he…

 

He loves Connor, the way Connor loves him. 

 

And it’s…

 

Connor looks at the note again. 

 

_ Just ran to the grocery store for a few things. I have my phone on me if you need anything.  I’ll be back soon. I love you.  _

 

“I love you,” he repeats quietly, because it’s… 

 

He doesn’t have the words. 

 

Connor finally checks the time, and it’s half past ten and the store should have been opened at ten. 

 

Fuck. 

 

He heads down to the store only to hear Leslie in the middle of a conversation with a customer, and he remembers that he called Leslie last night to cover the store today.

 

Right. 

 

Fuck, he’s losing it. 

 

Connor goes back up the stairs before Leslie notices him, then goes to the bathroom. Once he’s done, he heads back into the kitchen, sits down at the kitchen table and opens his laptop and picks up where he left off on Thursday night with his editing. 

 

Well, he tries to. The screen isn’t making any sense, and everything’s blurry, and he’s not quite sure that he’s real. 

 

That any of this is real. 

 

He takes in a shaky breath, rubs his eyes and looks at the screen again, and reads the same paragraph four times and it doesn’t make any more sense. 

 

He looks around the kitchen, and someone’s taken out the trash and he’s only just noticed that he can hear a beeping sound and that’s his washer-dryer except he didn’t put laundry in and on the kitchen table next to his laptop is a bottle of pills with his name on it and he picks it up and shakes it experimentally and it’s his medication and he’s just…

 

Overwhelmed. 

 

Overwhelmed with the sense that this isn’t right, that none of this is right, that he’s fucked up, that Evan only stayed because he could see that Connor was a fucking mess, he felt bad for him, that he’s probably not coming back but the Post-It note attached to Connor’s phone says  _ I love you _ and…

 

He stares at the screen of his laptop for a long time, trying to make sense of the paragraphs in front of him because he needs to get this edit done by tomorrow, he promised Dave and Mikhail he would, and he’s got to get this done. 

 

But nothing happens. 

 

There’s a hand on his shoulder. 

 

He blinks. Looks up and sees Evan standing behind him, face tight with concern. “What are you doing?” Evan asks, his voice gentle. 

 

“I have to get this edit done,” Connor says, gesturing to the computer. “I promised Dave and Mikhail-”

 

“Connor, you need to rest,” Evan says firmly. “Go back to bed.”

 

“I can’t. I need to do this. I said I would-”

 

“They’ll understand,” Evan interrupts, frowning. “Connor, you’re not-”

 

“I said I’d edit this by tomorrow, and I’m three-quarters of the way there and I promised, and I need to do the work, I need to work if I don’t want to declare bankruptcy before I’m thirty,  _ fuck.” _

 

Connor blinks a few times, because the screen is getting blurry, and he dimly realizes he’s crying, and it’s deeply embarrassing but also somehow he’s not surprised because of course he was going to melt down, of course he was going to…

 

“Connor, what’s this about?” Evan asks, his voice so so soft. He’s kneeling next to Connor now, his hand on his arm. “What’s got you so worried about going bankrupt?”

 

“Nothing, it’s nothing-”

 

“Connor, I’m carrying around several hundred thousand dollars of law school debt,” Evan says, and his voice is stronger now. “I get worrying about money. I do. But I helped you with the whole legal side of buying the bookstore and if I thought it was even  _ remotely _ likely that you’d end up bankrupt I would have said something a long time ago. I’m not saying there’s no risk, because nothing’s ever risk-free, but you have a solid business plan and your trust fund means the mortgage on this place is pretty fucking reasonable, especially for New York, and-”

 

“I’m being stupid,” Connor interrupts, feeling his face go red, because he knows that he’s got no right to complain about money, no real understanding of what it’s like to not have money, no real comprehension of what that’s like, and Evan has law school debt and grew up with way, way less than Connor ever had and he’s selfish and stupid to be complaining about this. “Ignore me, I’m being stupid, I…”

 

“Is this something your dad said?” Evan asks, and Connor hates that he’s crying about this, hates that he kind of wants to scream, hates that he’s upset and he knows that he’s tensed up and he can tell from the way Evan tenses up next to him that Evan knows, Evan knows that Connor’s dad thinks he’s fucking useless, thinks he’ll fail…

 

“I’m being stupid,” Connor says again. He wipes his face with the back of his sleeve, even though it’s disgusting, and he’s so tired, he’s so bone tired, and Evan is here and he loves him and Connor can’t even… can’t even keep it together long enough to face that. 

 

Evan stands up and wraps Connor in his arms from behind the chair. “You’re not stupid,” Evan says firmly. “Your dad is an asshole.”

 

“I shouldn’t let it-”

 

“My dad laughed at me when I said I was going to law school,” Evan interrupts. “He, like, genuinely thought I was kidding. Then when he figured out I was serious, he actually said ‘you know you’ll have to talk in front of people, right? You can barely talk properly in front of your own family’.” Evan lets out a shaky laugh. “Asshole likes to pick and choose when he’s family.”

 

Connor can feel himself getting pissed off on Evan’s behalf, and honestly, it’s the most emotion he’s felt other than just sad for the last month. “What the fuck? Who the fuck says that to their own kid?” 

 

He’s quiet once he realizes what he’s said. 

 

“Yeah,” says Evan. “I get asshole dads. I get… I know that they can get in your head, you know?”

 

“I swear if I ever meet your dad I’ll punch him in the face.”

 

Evan laughs. “Every minute  _ your _ dad exists without someone having punched him is a minute too long. Fucking hell, he’s the worst.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Connor says quietly. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to freak out on you-”

 

“You’re okay,” Evan says gently. “It’s going to be okay, but you need to… you need to let me help you, okay?” Connor nods, and Evan kisses the top of his head. “Okay, so… do you think you could eat something now or do you want to go back to bed?”

 

“I don’t want you to go,” Connor says immediately, and then kind of wishes he hadn’t, because he hasn’t answered the question, he’s just… blurted out something stupid. 

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Evan says. “Promise.”

 

Connor’s exhausted. “I don’t think I can eat,” he confesses. “I know I need to, but I just…”

 

“Yeah.” Evan’s quiet for a minute. “Okay, so, back to bed? At least for a little while? Then maybe we have some lunch and go for a walk or something?”

 

Connor hasn’t left the building in nearly a month but doesn’t want to think about that right now. He doesn’t answer, but he does stand up and Evan takes his hand and they go back to Connor’s room and Connor realizes then that he’s still in sweats and he genuinely tried to go open the store in sweats and a t-shirt that he went to bed in and fuck,  _ fuck, _ he’s losing it. 

 

Evan pulls him close and kisses him softly. “I’m going to unpack the groceries,” he says quietly. “And do a couple of other things. But I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

 

“I heard the washer-dryer,” Connor says wearily. “You didn’t… didn’t have to do my laundry.”

 

Evan squeezes his hand. “Remember when I gave myself alcohol poisoning last year?” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m not doing anything you haven’t done for me.”

 

“You were sick,” Connor argues weakly. 

 

“So are you,” Evan counters, then kisses him again. “I want to help.”

 

Connor sits down the bed. He’s so, so, so tired. “I’ll call Praveed,” he says. “When I wake up next.”

 

Evan smiles at him, a big relieved smile. “That’s good. That’s really good.”

 

“I’m fucking this up,” Connor says, and immediately wishes he hadn’t, because Evan’s smile is gone and he just looks concerned. 

 

“You’re not fucking anything up.”

 

“I am,” Connor tries to explain. “I… I love you, I love you so much and I just want… I just want to be happy that we finally… that you… but everything is so fucked up and it’s my fault, I-”

 

“No,” says Evan firmly. “No, it’s not your fault, okay? This happens. I wish it didn’t but it does, and we’ve both been here before and we got through it then and we’ll get through it now.” He looks a little sad, but grabs Connor’s hand and holds it tightly. “We have time.” Then he kisses him. “Please get some rest. I love you.” 

 

Connor smile and squeezes Evan’s hand. Then he gets into bed, puts his head on the pillow and closes his eyes. Sleep hits him like a bus with Alana Beck’s face on it. 

 

* * *

Evan kept a brave face on for Connor but the moment he was sleeping, Evan had to take a minute or ten to kind of just. Process.

Fucking Larry Murphy. Evan hated that guy, he was such a fucking asshole and of course he had said shit to Connor, probably because he was a petty son of a bitch who couldn’t stand that his kid was succeeding in a way Larry hadn’t expected. Fuck Larry. If Evan had to face that man in court again, he was not going to hold back at all. Evan would destroy him and he would enjoy it. Evan had half a mind to call his mom and ask her to key Larry’s car, because if he told her what Larry had said to Connor, he had a feeling she might actually do it. When his dad laughed at him about law school, his mom had gone ballistic. She chewed Carl out publicly on facebook, she called Evan’s grandma on his mom’s side to say what an asshole he turned out to be, and she threatened to take him to court for back child support. At the time, Evan had been hugely embarrassed. Now he… he got it. He got wanting to ruin the life of someone for hurting a person you loved. 

Once he had gathered himself a little, Evan swapped Connor’s laundry out and put in a second load. Then he grabbed his phone and called Zoe. He hadn’t heard back from her after his text and he was… he needed some backup. The Larry thing meant he definitely needed some backup. 

“Evan, what’s up?” She said when she answered, and Evan could immediately tell she was worried. “I just got your text, sorry, I wasn’t even looking at my phone, shit, I was out on a stupid date -”

“It’s… It’s Connor,” Evan said, trying to maintain an even tone so she wouldn’t panic. “He’s not doing super great right now.”

“Is he hurt?”

“No, nothing like that just. He just. He seems really really down. It looks like he hasn’t been sleeping, and he ran out of meds and didn’t pick up the refill and, I dunno, he said your dad said something about him going bankrupt?” Evan sucked in a breath. “I feel a little bit out of my depth here. I could use some help.”

“Wait, you’re at his place?”

“Uh, yeah,” Evan said, because he sort of assumed it was obvious that he hadn’t gained this information from the internet. “We. We sort of talked last night?”

“Oh.”

“That’s not really important,” Evan said because, well, it wasn’t. Connor’s health was obviously more pressing and outranked Evan getting his head out of his ass. “I’m just pretty worried about him.”

“Okay,” She said, and Evan could picture her frowning. “Does he know you called me?”

“No. I - uh- he went back to sleep.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon,” Zoe said and she hung up without saying goodbye. Evan tried not to take it personally, because of course her priority was Connor not Evan or his weird social anxieties. 

Evan took a deep breath then got to work folding the clothes he had washed into neat piles. He crept quietly into Connor’s bedroom, and once he was sure Connor was definitely out, he quietly went about putting away all of the freshly laundered clothes. Once that task was finished, Evan sort of looked around helplessly because he was starting to run out of things he could do. There were just a few dishes that needed washing, and really Evan had some work he could be doing but that felt selfish...

He desperately wanted to fix this. Like maybe if he put enough things away or cleaned enough stuff or managed to get Connor out of the building, then it would be fine and Evan would have fixed it and… Evan was doing the thing again. He was trying to fix everything again. Evan couldn’t fix everything, and he definitely could not fix this. He…

He had called Zoe and he had shopped and done some laundry and made sure Connor was getting sleep. That was what he could do. And he had done that. 

So while Connor slept, Evan sat at the kitchen table and did a bit of work, doing a little research for an upcoming case. He emailed Marcia to see if they could schedule an extra session because he had a feeling that he would need a little extra support that week. He paid his portion of the electric bill, and texted his mom just to say hi. Mariah texted to apologize because she had rescheduled on Zoe for the third time and said,  _ “Yikes you’re never gonna hook me up with your hot friends again sorry.” _

About an hour after he called, Zoe knocked on the door to Connor’s apartment, and Evan let her inside. “Hi,” He said, grateful she was there. 

“Hi,” She said and Evan tried not to read too much into her somewhat standoffish tone. “Is he in his room?”

“Yeah,” Evan said. Zoe nodded once and headed that way, shutting the door behind her.  Evan felt like he was basically just… sitting there eavesdropping, and he didn’t want to do that, so got up and put some headphones in so that he didn’t accidentally overhear the private conversation in the other room and started washing the dishes. 

Because Connor said he didn’t want him to go, so until further notice, Evan was not going anywhere. He was here, for this, even though it was hard and he felt a little (okay, a lot) like he was fucking up here…. Connor was his person and Evan was here. 

There weren’t actually all that many dishes for him to wash so when he finished, Evan set about sorting through a pile of mail that it appeared Connor had just left untouched. He recycled some old expired coupons and some junk mail, and made a few neat piles out of the other mail. Personal bills in one pile, business related bills in another, personal correspondence in a third. Evan kind of felt weird going through the mail because technically speaking it wasn’t legal to open an envelope with someone else’s name on it, but it seemed like the sort of task that might overwhelm Connor right now. He left a note on the whiteboard for Connor with the totals for electricity, water, and internet. 

He returned to his laptop, not really working or doing very much, just scrolling through facebook because he wasn’t sure what else he could do right now. 

Maybe ten minutes later, Connor and Zoe emerged from the bedroom. Connor still looked surprised to see Evan there, and Evan hated that, hated himself for staying away long enough to let Connor think he wasn’t coming back. 

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Connor said, his voice a little bit raspy. He retreated to the bathroom, the door shutting softly. 

Zoe sat down at the table beside Evan wearily. 

“How are you holding up?” He asked her. 

“I’m going to do something that we will never speak of following this moment.”

“Alright?”

And then Zoe burst into tears, like she had been holding it in since she talked to Connor, like she had waited patiently until this precise second to break down. Evan froze for a moment, but then he put a hand on Zoe’s shoulder and before he knew it, she was crying on his shoulder. 

“This is… this is worse than I thought, this is bad.”

“He… Yeah. It’s not great.”

“Fuck,” Zoe said softly. She wiped her eyes, only to start crying again. “I knew it wasn’t good. I knew that, like, I could tell he was struggling but shit. I screwed up here. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long, I should have-”

“Zoe.”

“I’m supposed to watch out for him,” She said, and her eyes flooded with tears. “That’s my job. It’s literally my job. That’s what I’m supposed to do. And I thought, now that he and I were actually talking, actually spending time together it would be easier to see when he needed help. But I… I fucked up. I thought he was just, like, moping around, I thought.”

“This isn’t on you, Zoe. You know that. This kind of stuff just… happens.”

“I know. I know that I know this, I have a fucking PhD in knowing this,” Zoe said. “I’m a therapist. And a good one, for the record, I’m really fucking good at my job. It’s just a lot harder when it’s someone you love, you know?”

“Yeah,” Evan said because. Yeah. It wasn’t easy to see that Connor was struggling. It was awful and frustrating and a little bit maddening and Evan hated it. 

But he loved Connor more than he hated this feeling.

Zoe pulled away and wiped her face. “Great, so, you’re not allowed to tell anyone that happened or I will rip off your balls and turn them into earrings, got it?”

“So… so violent,” Evan said, smiling a little. 

Zoe smiled back, wiping her eyes one last time. “He said… You two?”

“Yeah,” Evan said shrugging, feeling his face flush a bit. “I just. Was an idiot before.”

“You both were,” She said softly. 

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’m trying to make up for it now, you know? I’m not. I don’t… I try really hard not to half ass things, okay? So I won’t… I’m going to try really hard not to fuck this up.”

“Okay,” Zoe said. 

“You can kick my ass if it get it wrong or fuck it up. I will fully accept an ass kicking and I won’t even try to sue you for any medical costs.”

“I knew there was a reason I always liked you.”

Evan felt his face heat up again. 

* * *

Evan is on the roof. There’s blood in the bathtub and Connor is coughing up a razor blade and dying under a street lamp and the furniture is gone and he’s falling down the stairs he’s falling down the stairs again and again and again and everything explodes and the elevator is in free fall and he’s falling down the stairs and he’s falling falling falling and Evan is on the roof.

 

Evan is on the roof and he can’t hear him, he can’t hear Connor and Connor’s holding his arm, he has to hold on, they both have to hold on but Evan’s arm slips through his fingers, he isn’t solid enough to stop him because he’s not really here and Evan is on the roof. 

 

Evan and Connor are falling falling falling in an elevator, falling falling falling down the stairs and Evan is on the roof and he takes a step into the air and he’s falling falling falling and Connor did nothing to stop him, he did nothing, he can do nothing to stop this and he’s falling falling falling and 

 

Connor’s eyes fly open and his heart is pounding fast, fast, too fast, and he can’t breathe and he has to be quiet, he has to be quiet and he keeps himself quiet and he focuses on breathing and breathing and he’s shaking and he’s cold and he has to be quiet because if Evan’s still here, he can’t see him like this, he can’t…

 

He takes in some deep breaths. Closes his eyes. Lays his head against his pillow and tries to calm himself down. 

 

It takes a long time to get his breathing back to normal. 

 

Too long. 

 

Too, too long. 

 

When he’s finally, finally breathing, he tries to be as quiet as he can, listening for any sounds. The door to his room is shut and he thinks he can hear something from the next room, he thinks he can sense that there’s someone there, that Evan’s still there, but he doesn’t know for sure. 

 

Connor doesn’t know for sure that Evan stayed, but he doesn’t know that he didn’t, and as long as he stays here, stays in bed and doesn’t check, then Evan’s there, then he can believe that Evan’s there and if he gets out of bed and checks, he’ll know for sure and then he’ll know that he’s alone in this apartment, because there’s no way that Evan stayed. 

 

Even if he loves him like he says he does, there’s no reason for him to stay, because Connor has nothing to offer him like this. 

 

He realizes his eyes are filling up with tears and it’s excruciatingly embarrassing, so he wipes them with the back of his hand, then realizes that he’s cold, and he thinks there’s a sweater on the floor next to his bed but when he looks, he notices that it’s gone, and that his laundry hamper is empty, and fuck. Fuck. 

 

Quietly, as quietly as he can, he opens up his drawers and finds his softest sweater, carefully folded and stored, and he takes it out and puts it on and he’s still cold, Jesus fuck, and he crawls back into bed and his heart starts pounding faster and faster again and he wills himself to calm the fuck down, because this isn’t helping, this isn’t helpful, and he should be better than this by now. 

 

He can hear the sounds of someone knocking on the door. 

 

Then he can hear the door open, and low voices, and he realizes that one of those voices is Evan, that Evan stayed, and he feels his eyes welling up again and he wraps himself tighter in his blankets and then the door to his room opens and closes with a gentle click. 

 

“Connor?”

 

It’s not Evan’s voice. 

 

It’s Zoe. 

 

Evan must have called her. 

 

He doesn’t respond immediately, not knowing what to say, but Zoe’s always been able to tell when he’s faking being asleep and she doesn’t seem to have lost that ability, and he can hear her footsteps and feel a weight on the edge of the bed, on Evan’s side of the bed (because it’s always been Evan’s side of the bed, ever since he bought it almost a year ago), and he reluctantly sits up and looks at her. 

 

“Evan called,” Zoe says, her voice gentle. “He said you weren’t doing so good.”

 

“Is he still here?” Connor finds himself asking. 

 

Zoe frowns a little and nods. “I can ask him to go if you want.”

 

“No,” Connor says immediately. “No, I want him here, I…” He looks down at the blanket, then pulls it up closer to him, because he’s so, so cold. “He came over last night, and he… he said that he loves me.” He laughs a little, and it’s hollow even to his own ears. “And even after that I still can’t get it together, fuck.”

 

Zoe looks concerned, but her voice is even. “Have you been taking your meds?” Connor shakes his head, and she frowns. “How long since you last took them?”

 

“About two weeks,” Connor confesses. “I… Evan picked up the refill, so I can take them tonight.”

 

“And when did you last see Praveed?” 

 

Connor shrugs. “Before I took over the store?”

 

“How long before?”

 

He shrugs again. “A couple of months? We’d, uh, we’d only been doing sessions, like, once a month, and I had to reschedule because I was so busy, and…” Connor trails off when he sees how sad his sister looks. “Zo, I’m sorry. I fucked up. I know I fucked up. I-”

 

“It’s going to be okay,” Zoe says, and she puts her hand on his arm and Connor can’t help it, he’s tearing up again, and his eyes are sore because he’s just been tearing up all over the place, and he’s losing it, he’s completely fucking losing it, everything is crumbling around him and… 

 

“Have you been sleeping?” Zoe asks, and Connor shakes his head. She squeezes his arm again. “Things always feel worse when you haven’t slept.” 

 

“I slept last night,” he says wearily. “I was up for a bit but I went back to sleep, and… I feel worse, honestly, like… fuck, like sleeping has just made it  _ worse _ and I’m so tired and…”

 

“I know,” says Zoe comfortingly. She scoots over and pulls Connor into a hug and Connor hugs her back, tighter than he probably should, tighter than what’s probably comfortable, because he’s been avoiding her, too, and he’s missed her, he’s missed seeing her but he didn’t want her to see him like this, didn’t want her to see how much he’d fucked up, how much he’d…

 

He’s just so tired. So drained. Like there’s nothing left of him. 

 

Zoe rubs his back gently and he takes in ragged breaths until he thinks he’s got himself under control, then finally pulls away. Zoe looks at him, her eyes a little glassy, but her expression one of resolve. 

 

“Okay,” she says gently. “Here’s what I think we do. We make a plan for today. First you have a shower, okay?” Connor nods, and she continues. “Then once you’ve done that, we’ll call Praveed and get you an appointment for Monday. Then I think, maybe some lunch? I know there’s that diner around the corner, we could all go get something there, the three of us.”

 

Connor immediately tenses. Zoe looks at him and her face falls a little. “When did you last leave the building?” she asks gently. 

 

“Dinner with you and Mom,” he admits guiltily. 

 

Zoe’s eyes widen in surprise and she looks like she’s about to say something, but instead she just nods. “Okay. Even if we don’t go out for lunch, maybe a short walk. I think you need to go outside.” She offers him a smile. “I know you’re not exactly outdoorsy, but it’ll be good for you. Maybe we can get ice cream or something, it’s actually really nice out today.”

 

“Okay,” says Connor, because even though the idea of going outside makes his stomach churn, he knows that he doesn’t want to feel like this, and that he’s going to have to leave the apartment to see Praveed on Monday and that’s going to be hard enough, so it’s probably good to get over the whole ‘leaving this building’ hurdle sooner rather than later. 

 

He gets out of bed, goes to his dresser and pulls out a clean pair of jeans, clean underwear, and a clean t-shirt. Then he remembers that Evan did his laundry and feels horribly embarrassed. Zoe’s looking at him quizzically and he offers her a smile. 

 

“I feel kind of stupid,” he admits quietly. “Evan… Evan did my laundry? I hadn’t done any in weeks because I’d just been so tired, and… it’s really fucking embarrassing.”

 

Zoe smiles. “It’s good that he did,” she says gently. “I think he just wants to help.” She bites her lip. “And you guys… you’re okay? You talked, and you’re…”

 

“We’re okay,” Connor assures her. He smiles a little weakly. “We’re great, actually, we’re… fuck, I just…” he sighs, and looks at his feet. “I should be happier. I should be… fucking ecstatic, I… I didn’t think I’d… but he came over last night and we talked and then he stayed over and he got groceries and did my laundry and took out the trash and I… I don’t deserve that, I don’t… I didn’t…”

 

“You deserve to be happy,” Zoe says, her tone gentle but firm. “You do, Connor. Right now it’s just… a little harder, because your brain is being an asshole, but we’re going to get you back on track, okay? It might take a little work, but you won’t be doing it alone.”

 

Connor nods. And he lets Zoe lead him out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where Evan’s sitting at the table on his laptop, and there’s a part of Connor that’s still just… shocked he’s still here. 

 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he says awkwardly, and his voice feels weird, and he heads to the bathroom and closes the door behind him gently and lets out a deep breath. 

 

Looks at his reflection in the mirror. 

 

He looks like shit. His hair is greasy and frizzy and it’s coming out of the bun he’d been keeping it in, and he’s paler than he should be and he’s got these dark circles under his eyes, which are red from crying, and he needs to shave. 

 

So that’s what Connor does first. He shaves, slowly and carefully, being extra careful with the razor because he knows what razors can do, but this one is a safety blade because he’s always bought the ones with safety blades, ever since…

 

Ever since. 

 

Then he takes off his clothes, climbs into the tub and turns on the shower and just… stands there under the hot water for a while, probably longer than he should, but he’s tired and this is taking more effort than he thought. He washes his body carefully because he’s a little shaky on his feet, then he washes his hair and rinses it out. 

 

Then he opens the new bottle of conditioner and squeezes out a generous dollop and works it through his hair, and he hasn’t done this in a while and his hair is a knotty mess, but the conditioner is helping, and it honestly makes him feel less like a skeleton hobo and more like a human being. 

 

He’s lost a bit of weight over the last month, he notices, and he doesn’t really have that much to lose, so it’s not ideal. 

 

Fuck. 

 

He needs to take better care of himself. 

 

He leaves the conditioner in longer than usual, and when he rinses it out, his hair feels a whole lot better. Once it’s all out, he turns off the water then steps out of the tub carefully, and dries himself carefully, and puts on his freshly laundered clothes. Then he wipes down the mirror and looks at himself for a moment. 

 

Still tired. Still pale, but with a bit more color from the heat of the shower. Clean shaven, still with dark circles under his eyes. 

 

But an improvement. 

 

Kind of.

 

Connor debates pulling out his blow dryer but honestly, he’s just too tired. He towel dries his hair the best he can and combs it out, even though he knows you’re not supposed to comb wet hair, because he wants to look… less like a mess when he leaves this room. He knows he’s scaring his sister and that this wasn’t what Evan expected to find when he came over last night, and he’s honestly scared himself, because…

 

He’d let it all slide. Meds, therapy, basic self-care… all of it. 

 

He remembers telling Evan last June that it’s something that needs to be worked at, that he needed to keep working at, and here is he, not taking his own damn advice. 

 

The mirror’s fogging up again, so he wipes it down one more time and stares down his reflection. 

 

“Okay,” he says softly. 

 

And then he heads out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen, where Evan and Zoe are talking quietly at the kitchen table. Evan’s the first one to notice him and he smiles at Connor, and it hits him like a punch to the chest, Evan’s smile, because it’s bright and it’s like the sun, and Connor wants to see that smile every damn day for the rest of his life. 

 

“Hey,” he says quietly. “I’m just going to put on some shoes and make a quick phone call, but then… shall we go out for lunch?”

 

Evan’s smile widens, and Zoe’s smiling too, and Connor feels his face curve into a smile as well. It’s not as bright as it could be, he knows, but it’s a start. 

 

This is a start. 


	21. September, Part II (One Year and Seven Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck avocados.

Evan stayed at Connor’s for an entire week. After so much time apart, Evan was grateful to suddenly get so much time together, but it wasn’t exactly a joyous reunion. Connor was not doing well. And Evan had never been in the caretaker role like this before. He was certain that he would fuck up something vital. Utterly certain.

He had no business taking care of someone else. He was a mess himself. Less of a mess than he had been, but, still. A mess nonetheless.

But he spent the whole week at Connor’s place. Staying was what he was capable of so he stayed. He stayed the night every single night. Made sure Connor ate dinner and breakfast every single day. He handled the small stuff like cleaning dishes and laundry and Connor slept, like, a lot.

Evan, however, slept very little.

But Connor said he didn’t want Evan to leave so he stayed.

How had he missed this? When did it start? July? June? May? He’d remembered Connor seeming a bit off in May, around the time that they had drinks with Sabrina. He had thought it might have been because Connor had just seen his dad, and that was probably right, probably part of it, Larry being an asshole to Connor about the business, shaking his confidence… He’d missed this and blamed Connor for blowing him off, abandoning him and this was what was really happening and it was Evan’s fault because he hadn’t noticed or seen.

So Evan barely slept. He felt like a zombie at work and when Mariah asked what was going on, he couldn’t exactly tell her that he and Connor were together because then she’d assume they were up all night banging and the truth was so fucking far from that reality and the last thing he needed was to freak out at work so Evan had merely shrugged, said it was stress, and tried to keep his head down.

The whole situation honestly kind of sucked. Evan had… hoped if he told Connor how he felt that it would mean good things. Happiness. Like the sex marathon he was sure Mariah would invision. But Evan also knew, realistically, that you didn’t magically heal because someone loved you. You couldn’t fix someone by loving them. Sabrina had tried it with Evan, and it hadn’t worked so… Evan tried really hard not to be upset that Connor still wasn’t okay.

He tried really hard but it wasn’t always easy. And he hated that he couldn’t just be understanding without having to try. Evan hated that part of him was sad and a bit angry, not only that Connor had hidden this from him, but because he had let himself get so bad that he couldn’t even be happy that he and Evan were together now.

So that wasn’t ideal. And Evan knew it was only a matter of time before that ate him alive so he called Marcia and she asked if he was willing to do a session that Friday evening. “I usually close up shop early on Fridays, but I want to make sure we talk about this before the weekend.”

Fuck.

Evan texted Connor to let him know he was heading straight to therapy after work so Connor wouldn’t worry that he had disappeared. _“I’m doing an extra session with Marcia tonight at 6. Do you want me to bring food when I’m done? I love you.”_

When Evan arrived at Marcia’s office, she was already waiting for him in the lobby. She ushered him into her session space and gave him a smile. “So. When you were here on Tuesday you said that you and Connor talked and had decided that you would try to be together.”

“Yes.”

“But you said Connor wasn’t doing so well, mental healthwise?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me more about that.”

So Evan did. He would have normally tried to gloss over details, try to mitigate the reaction Marcia might have but he was realizing, as he covered the fact that Connor either slept too much or not at all, that eating was sometimes too draining for him, that he had gone an entire month without leaving his apartment building, that he was over his head here. That this was perhaps more serious than even he had realized.

“And how are you coping with this?”

“I’m…” Evan shrugged, helplessly. To his embarrassment, his eyes flooded with tears. “I don’t know.”

“Evan,” Marcia said softly. She passed a box of tissues across the coffee table between them.

“I’m here. For the second time in a week. I’m staying at Connor’s apartment because I’m scared to leave him alone and I’m going out of my mind while I’m at work, scared he could hurt himself or… something. I’m not really sleeping, I’m distracted at work, I’m… ” He held his hands up to show Marcia, show off his ripped up cuticles and nails bitten bloody. “Honestly, I don’t think I am coping. I told him that I wanted to be able to do this but that we both needed to be healthy, we both needed to be okay… But I am _not_ okay and I don’t know what to do.”

Marcia nodded. Her response was to click her pen closed, uncross her legs, lean forward and say to Evan, “I am going to do something I never do.”

“Alright?” His heart started to speed up and he got scared, just for a second, that she was going to tell him she was going to lock him up or something he knew was unlikely. He was okay. Well. He wasn’t okay, but he wasn’t… suicidal or lost like he had been last year. He was in an alright, relatively stable place. Maybe she might tell him to give up on Connor and he could not do that because he just Couldn’t do it. But this was stressful and he needed help and Marcia was usually able to help him, even if he didn’t like to hear what she had to say.

“I’m going to tell you what to do, Evan,” She said, her voice gentler than it typically was. “Because I think right now, you need advice from someone who has seen a lot of this before.”

He swallowed hard, realizing this did not relieve any of his stress. “Okay.”

“Evan, I think you need to go back to sleeping in your own apartment again. Immediately. Tonight, if possible.”

He was… not expecting that, and Evan’s immediate reaction was panic. “But what if-”

“I’m serious about this,” Marcia said. “You love Connor and you want to help him during this difficult time. That is wonderful and admirable, but you cannot fix this situation for him. You cannot make his struggles yours. He has to take care of it himself. You can support him and help him, but you cannot make his mental health your responsibility. I am telling you this because I care about _your_ wellbeing. You need to go back to sleeping at your own place. You need to take care of yourself first. Take stock about how you are feeling, check in with yourself. You and Connor have gone from not speaking to basically living together overnight. I suspect that it’s too much, too soon and I will guarantee you that you will find yourself feeling rapidly overwhelmed if you aren’t already.”

Evan immediately knew she was right. He sniffled pitifully. “I am. Fuck. I already am.”

She nodded. “I was concerned about that.”

“I’m… I’m scared if I leave that then something bad will happen to him,” Evan admitted. “I’m scared all of the time. He’s… he’s always been the stable one, the one who has taken care of me, looked out for me. I don’t know how to do this for him, I don’t know how to help and I am terrified.”

“I know. And that fear makes total sense. But if you don’t establish healthy boundaries for yourself now, it’ll just get harder to set them later. And I think for the time being, you have to maintain that you are not Connor’s caretaker. You care about him, you love him, and because you love him you will take care of yourself first.”

“I don’t want to leave him alone.”

“He’s not alone,” Marcia said. “Who checked on him when the two of you weren’t talking?”

Evan shrugged. “Zoe, his sister. Leslie and Maureen at the store. Gladys and Martha. His old roommate Andi sometimes, but she’s kind of absent-minded. His mom calls to check in?”

“Exactly. He has people other than you.”

“But they didn’t stop this from happening,” Evan said quietly. “Maybe if I had been there, if I had known…”

“If you had been there, Connor might have hid all of it from you anyway,” Marcia said firmly. “Mental illness tends to tell the brain that isolation and hiding are the safest option. You and I have discussed this in relation to you as well. You know how tempting it can be to hide your pain from the people who care about you because you don’t want to hurt them.”

Evan nodded.

“I think you should tell Connor later that you will be sleeping at your own apartment tonight. You can’t put yourself on call twenty-four hours a day. You need time for rest and self-care.”

“I don’t want to stop talking to him.”

“I’m not saying that,” Marcia said and to Evan’s surprise she was smiling. “At all. Call him. Text. Visit… but go home to your own apartment after a while. Take space. See your other friends, talk to them about the situation. You need support. You deserve to have people in your corner too.”

Evan nodded. “I’ve never done this before. I’m scared I’ll… I don’t want him to think I’m leaving. When things fell apart with my ex… Part of it was because I was. Sick. I was struggling, a lot. And I…  It felt like it was all my fault, that she resented me, and I don’t… I don’t want to be the Sabrina here, I don’t want to be resentful and bitter, but I can’t… I can’t take care of him, I can’t… I can barely take care of myself and I’m going to fuck this up and he’s going to think I’m done with him...”

Marcia clicked her tongue sympathetically. “Evan. All you can do is tell him you’re still there. It’s up to him to trust that you’ll be back.”

Evan nodded.

“Boundaries are not there to keep people out, Evan. They are there so that you can invite them into the places you are willing to let them be. Right now, it sounds as if everything you’re feeling is about how Connor is feeling. Am I wrong in that?”

“No.”

“So how are _you_ feeling? What’s under the worry and the fear?”

“Crappy,” He said. “Kind of… disappointed, I guess? I’m scared and I’m worried and I love him and want to be with him but… not like this. I don’t want us both to be all messed up and broken and whatever. I just… I wanted to get to be happy about this.”

Marcia nodded. “I know.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “I think you will be. It just might take time. And you have time. There’s no need to rush into things. This is a new relationship. You and Connor might have known each other for years, might have been close for years, but this is still a new relationship. You should treat it like one.”

Evan nodded.

When he left his session, Evan took himself for a short walk before he checked his phone. He smoked because it made him feel less out of control. It helped to know he controlled his breathing, it helped to know he was the one who lit the lighter, inhaled, exhaled. Tasted fire back on his tongue, took a few shaky breaths. Threw the butt away.

He could do this.

He could do this.

He could set boundaries, he could set boundaries and it wouldn’t blow everything up, it wouldn’t destroy Connor, everything would be okay.

He looked at his phone. Connor had texted him while he was in therapy, saying that dinner would be good. Which was good. It meant he felt like eating.

If he felt like eating, then maybe…

Boundaries. Evan could fucking do this.

He could do it.

He picked up food on his way to Connor’s. He had been picking up a lot of extra food when he got dinner, just so Connor wouldn’t have to worry about where his next meal was coming from. Tonight he got Indian food, because they’d practically eaten their way around the world in the last week.

He made it to the bookstore about the time that Connor was closing up for the night. Connor smiled when he saw Evan and Evan gave him a quick once over. Connor still looked too skinny, a little too pale, but his hair was clean and Evan was pretty sure he had slept the whole night last night. So. Still better than last week Friday.

They sat at Connor’s kitchen table and Evan asked about his day. How he was doing.

“I mean… I’m still pretty wiped, but Praveed said that made sense since I’m readjusting to my meds and all. But work was alright. Steady, not too busy. Do you remember that singer with the blue hair who we had in for that open mic night over the summer? She and that blond YA author stopped by quick with their big fluffy dog.”

“I knew that was the dog walker!”

Connor nodded. “I totally got to pet the dog. So cute.”

“I’m really jealous.”

“You should be. His name is Guimauve. It apparently means marshmallow in French.”

“Stop. It’s too cute.”

“Also I got the author to sign my copy of their book? They signed a couple more for me too, which means I can boost the price for a few signed copies.”

“Very business-minded of you,” Evan said with a grin.

“I think we’re going to have the pair of them in for a book signing and talk slash performance night soon? I’ll have to nail down dates once I feel up to it, but they both sounded stoked. They said something about bringing a skull with them? Should be good.”

“Good,” Evan said. “I’m glad. That’s great. They sound super fun.”

“How was your day?”

“Alright,” Evan said, trying to keep his voice even.

“And seeing Marcia was… okay?”

“Yeah,” Evan said and he could hear his voice, how it was too tight, too high. He wasn’t sure if Connor knew this about him, but his voice pitch was always his tell. He got better at hiding it in debate, then the courtroom, and a little bit in poker, but Evan had no poker face when it came to Connor. “Well. I mean. It was kind of a tough session I guess? Productive but tough.”

Connor nodded. “Do you need to… talk about it?” As he was saying it, his face sort of got pinched, and Evan figured now was probably not the time to unpack all of his Relationship Stuff.

“No, I’m okay,” Evan said. “But. I. We did talk about, you know. Me and you. And. Making sure I’m keeping things, like… Okay. And stuff. So, I think I’m going to stay at my place tonight?”

“Oh,” Connor said, his eyes wide and, shit, Evan realized, fuck, the way he said that probably made it sound like he and Marcia had decided that Evan ought to end things with Connor and he didn’t want that at all. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you stay this long.”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” Evan rushed to say. “At all. I wanted to be here. And I still want to be here for you… I just. Look, I gave you a whole big speech about how we had to be healthy about this if we were going to… be together, and then I basically moved into your place. Because I’m worried about you and I love you and I couldn’t live with myself if something happened but… I haven’t been doing a good job of keeping up my end of the deal here. I’m not doing the shit _I’m_ supposed to be doing, I’m not taking care of myself the way I have to and that’s. That’s not fair to you. I love you so much, Connor, and. If we’re going to do this I can’t start letting stuff slide either. We both have to be okay.”

Connor nodded and he looked so fucking sad that Evan wanted to take every word back and pretend he hadn’t said anything at all.

But he pressed on, because he had to. “So I think maybe we should watch something after we eat and then I’ll head home? And you should call me if you need anything, okay? And we can still hang out tomorrow or Sunday or whatever you want… I just think I should go home tonight. Is that okay?”

“No. I mean. Yes. It makes sense, this must have been really hard for you, I’m so sorry,” Connor said. “Fuck, fuck I’m sorry I didn’t realize… I didn’t mean to-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Evan said. “Okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. I… I am shit at boundaries, and I need a little practice, but we’re going to figure it out. Okay?”

Connor nodded. “I’m sorry I worried you,”  Connor said softly. “I never want to worry you.”

Evan smiled slightly. “I have some very bad news for you… I worry a lot. Like. All the time. I have no chill, and I worry constantly. It’s giving me wrinkles.”

Connor smiled a little too. “Yeah, but I like them.”

Evan laughed slightly. “Gee thanks, way to stroke my ego there,” He teased.

“I like them.”

“I love you,” Evan said. “You know that right? I love you so much.”

Connor nodded, and that small smile was back. “Maybe we could do breakfast tomorrow? Or something?”

“I’d love that,” Evan said.

“Maybe the uh. The diner where we didn’t die?”

“That sounds great.”

* * *

It takes a while for Connor to start to feel better.

 

A lot longer than he’d expected, to be honest. He’d tried to rationalize to himself that things hadn’t really been that bad, that he was overreacting, that he just needed to go back on his meds and sleep more and everything would just slot back into place.

 

That isn’t the case.

 

Evan had been there the entire week after they start talking again, and Connor was ridiculously grateful, not just because he’d missed Evan so fucking much, but also because Evan being there meant that there was someone to keep him accountable, to make sure he leaves the building and eats and sleeps and takes his medication and goes to his therapy appointments.

 

Evan even took an extra long lunch break so he could take Connor to his first appointment with Praveed in a long time and when Connor was done with the session, Evan was there with sushi to make sure Connor ate something before he went back to work. Connor knows how fucking busy Evan is, so he appreciates it.

 

But mostly he feels guilty.

 

Guilty that he’d made Evan worry, guilty that he’d put the responsibility of looking after him on Evan, guilty that he’d gotten himself into such a bad state in the first place.

 

Connor knows he scared Evan. Terrified him. He hates it, completely hates it.

 

So he’s determined that he’s going to get things back to normal the next week. Absolutely determined. Connor’s back on his meds, he’s going to see Praveed at least once a week for the next little while and they’ve made a plan and it’s going to be okay.

 

And Evan loves him.

 

He has to be okay, because Evan loves him, loves Connor the way Connor loves Evan, and things have to be okay now.

 

They have to be okay. Evan deserves for Connor to be okay, to be a whole person, to be…

 

Better than this.

 

They have a great breakfast on Saturday morning at the diner where they didn’t die, and Connor orders scrambled eggs because it makes Evan roll his eyes and even manages to eat all of them. Then they go for a walk which shouldn’t be a huge crazy difficult thing except somehow for some reason, it is.

 

He’s exhausted by the end of it and tries not to let it show, but Evan notices. They go back to Connor’s apartment for the afternoon, spending their time watching something on Netflix in bed, and Connor doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until he’s gently shaken awake to find Evan’s ordered Thai food for dinner.

 

Connor can barely keep his eyes open through the meal, and by the time they’ve finished eating it’s only just past 7pm but Evan’s suggesting that Connor go to sleep and he’ll go home and they’ll catch up tomorrow.

 

It sounds like a logical plan, so Connor gets into bed and Evan kisses him before he goes and he’s asleep before he even hears Evan leave.

 

Connor wakes up at 4am with a scream in his throat and a tightness in his chest that won’t go away, no matter how many deep, calming breaths he takes. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Evan, jumping off the roof, or his own bloody wrists, or an elevator plummeting to the ground or his bones shattering as he’s hit by a bus.

 

And a deep, deep chill in his bones as he freezes to death in the middle of the night under a lamppost.

 

He’s so fucking cold.

 

It takes him a long time to compose himself, but he manages to drag himself out of bed to climb into the shower, hoping it’ll warm him up a little. He ends up sitting in the bathtub and letting the water run over him for a long time, curled up in a ball until it starts to go cold.

 

When he gets out and dries himself off, he puts on extra layers of clothing and puts an extra blanket on his bed and tries to go back to sleep.

 

It doesn’t work. He’s just… cold. And exhausted. And a little freaked out, having sat in a bathtub for however long.

 

Eventually, he gets up, and makes a cup of coffee, and sits on the sofa and reads a book for a while. He ends up dozing on the sofa for a while until his phone rings.

 

“Hello?”

 

Evan sounds taken aback. “Hi. It’s, uh, it’s Evan. How are you? Did I wake you up?”

 

“I was up,” Connor says, blinking and feeling a little stupid. “I just… I was reading and dozing and… how are you?”

 

“I’m okay,” says Evan. He sounds concerned, and nervous, and Connor wants to figure out a way to make him… not sound like that. “I… I want to see you today, I really do, it’s just that there are some things I need to get done here. Laundry and work and other stuff that I haven’t been doing because I-”

 

“You don’t need to come over,” Connor interrupts in a rush. “I’m good, I’m just resting. And you were here for a whole week, you shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have let you put your life on hold for me, you have things you need to do and you should definitely do them. It’s okay.”

 

“I want to see you, I just-”

 

“It’s like you said,” Connor says as firmly as he can manage. “You need to look after yourself. I’m okay, Evan. I’m just reading and resting and I might have a nap in a bit but I’m okay.”

 

The other end of the phone is quiet for a moment. “Can I… can I bring you dinner?”

 

Connor’s hit with this huge rush of affection for Evan, who’s done so much for him. Who’s been an amazing, steadfast friend since they died and died and died and is the most incredible person he knows and somehow, despite everything, _loves_ him. “Only if you think you’ll have time,” Connor says softly. “I don’t want you to rush, I don’t want you to worry-”

 

“I always worry,” Evan says, equally as softly. “I love you. So much.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

“I’ll see you tonight. Okay?”

 

Evan does, in fact, show up that evening with tacos and quesadillas, and they sit in the living room and eat, talking quietly about their days. Well, Evan talks about his day.

 

Connor doesn’t have a lot to say. Mostly he just… read and tried to stay warm.

 

They curl up in bed and watch a couple of episodes of Parks and Recreation, and Connor rests his head on Evan’s chest and listens to his heart beat and feels a little warmer. A little more settled. It’s tempting to doze off, because he’s so tired, but he doesn’t want to miss this, doesn’t want to waste this feeling, this comfort. He manages to stay awake, but only just, until Evan leans down for a kiss and very reluctantly says he needs to go home.

 

Once Evan’s gone, sleep is harder to come by.

 

In fact, it’s just not happening at all.

 

Connor lies awake and stares at the ceiling, thinking about Evan on the top of his apartment building, pale and shaking and afraid.

 

He thinks about Evan, pale and gray and sick last June, screaming in his sleep and begging Connor not to go.

 

He thinks about falling down the stairs, over and over again, and the sickening crunch of broken bones.

 

His throat starts to hurt and he’s terrified, convinced that he’s about to start coughing up a razor blade again.

 

He thinks about being seventeen years old, and everyone being afraid of him, or joking that he’d shoot up the school, and not knowing how to express how lost and alone he felt except by getting angry, so angry, because at least that was better than just being… lost and alone.

 

He thinks about reading a letter he was never meant to see, over and over again until it burned itself into his brain, then tearing it into a million pieces and throwing it out the window when he decided he didn’t deserve that comfort.

 

Didn’t deserve the comfort of knowing he wasn’t alone.

 

He remembers smoking a joint, snorting a bunch of oxy, then running a bath and climbing in fully clothed with a razor blade.

 

It had hurt more than he thought it would.

 

He’d thought that because he was so high, it wouldn’t have hurt as much. Fuck, he’d gotten high so maybe he wouldn’t feel it.

 

Connor remembers how it felt to slice into his wrists, making sure he’d gone deep enough, and how he’d wanted to scream from the pain of it all but somewhere inside him, he’d thought that he deserved to feel the pain.

 

He remembers how it felt to die, over and over again.

 

_What happens when it all falls apart, Connor? Are we going to find you bleeding out in a bathtub again?_

 

Connor doesn’t sleep at all that night. When his alarm goes off, he gets out of bed, feeling like his entire body is made of concrete, and makes himself a cup of coffee. While he’s drinking his coffee, a text comes through from Evan.

 

**Hope you slept well! I love you, have a great day.**

  


It’s just… so nice that Evan’s texting him. Connor replies immediately.

 

**I love you, too. Just getting ready for work now.**

 

There’s a response straight away.

 

**How did you sleep?**

 

Connor stares at his phone for a moment. He knows he should be honest, knows he should tell Evan that he didn’t sleep at all, but he can’t bear the thought of upsetting him, of making him worry more than he already is.

 

Eventually, he manages to settle on a response.

 

**Not bad. Hope your day is going well :)**

 

He feels bad for lying, but he reasons that it would have been worse to tell the truth. That Evan doesn’t need this right now, or possibly ever, and that Connor can’t give him any more reasons to worry.

 

He just… he can’t.

 

The day is tiring and long and Connor feels like he’s dead on his feet. He knows he looks like crap, and Leslie keeps shooting him worried looks when she thinks he isn’t looking, but thankfully doesn’t say anything. He has a granola bar for lunch, and another cup of coffee, then another and another, and when Leslie finishes her shift, Connor finds himself starting to fade a little.

 

He pulls out his phone to see Evan’s texted him.

 

**Do you want me to come over after you close the store? I’ve got some work I need to get done but I could do it at your place?**

 

Honestly, Connor would love nothing more than to see Evan right now. But he’s exhausted and drained and he knows he wouldn’t be good company, so reluctantly he replies.

 

**I think I’m just going to go straight to bed, it’s been a tiring day. Dinner tomorrow, maybe? I can order Thai.**

 

Evan’s reply is quick.

 

**Sounds great**

**But it’s my treat, though**

 

Connor snorts. This is a familiar argument.

 

**I’ll Venmo you half**

 

**If you do, I’ll just Venmo it back**

 

**Then I’ll send it again**

**And add twenty dollars out of spite**

 

**Two can play at that game**

**Don’t think you can defeat me**

**I argue for a living, remember?**

 

Connor grins. He can’t help it, he has to reply immediately.

 

**I love you so fucking much**

 

It takes a while for Evan to respond and he feels stupid for a moment, like he’s said something wrong, but soon enough there’s a response

 

**I love you, too**

**So so so much**

**:) :) :)**

 

The message warms Connor through, helping take the edge off the chill that’s had a hold on him since the weekend.

 

When he closes the store at 8, he heads upstairs and looks in the fridge to see a range of leftovers. He reheats some noodles, then kind of… pushes them around the plate for a while. He manages maybe two bites before throwing the rest out, because he shouldn’t be reheating food more than once, then changes into sweats and a t-shirt and a hoodie, and curls up in bed.

 

Once again, sleep doesn’t come and he lies awake for hours until finally, finally, he can’t stand it any longer so he gets up and stares at his laptop screen at the accounts until the sun rises.

 

They look good, at least. Him being a total fucking disaster hasn’t led him to financial ruin yet.

 

He makes a cup of coffee at 6am, then another at 7, then another. By the time he opens the store, he’s five cups of coffee deep and is feeling jittery and weird and awful and just… wrong.

 

He just feels wrong.

 

The day drags, but it’s busy and full of customers, and Leslie’s worried glances are getting more and more obvious. When she gets back from her lunch break, she’s brought a deli sandwich for Connor and insists he go upstairs and eat it and rest for a bit on his break.

 

Connor manages about three bites of the sandwich before wrapping it up and putting it in the fridge. Then he worries that Evan’s going to see this half-eaten sandwich, so he takes it out of the fridge upstairs and puts it in the staff fridge so it’s not quite so obvious.

 

Leslie offers to close up so he can rest but he assures her he’s fine, and spends the time he’s alone in the store restocking shelves. Evan shows up at ten to eight with Thai food and he’s watching Connor carefully, so carefully, and Connor doesn’t want to worry him so he smiles as widely as he can and kisses him and tells him to meet him upstairs while he closes up.

 

“How was your day?” Connor asks once he’s back in his apartment, the store closed up properly. “You said you were really busy last night. Another big case?”

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, frowning a little. “You okay? You seem a little…”

 

“I’m okay,” Connor says, smiling again, hoping that it reaches his eyes and convinces Evan that he’s fine, he’s really fine, he’s just tired and he doesn’t want Evan to worry, he loves him too much to worry him, it’s fine, it’s fine fine fine. “Just a long day. I’m still… you know, getting used to the meds.”

 

“Right,” says Evan, nodding. He leans in and tucks a piece of Connor’s hair behind his ear. Just as Evan goes to move his hand, Connor takes it in his, then brings it to his mouth and kisses it gently. Evan’s face relaxes a little, but it’s enough.

 

Connor leans in and kisses him properly, slowly and gently, and Evan pulls him in closer, taking Connor’s face in his hands gently, touching his hair, and Connor lets himself get lost in this for a while. Relishes the knowledge that he can do this now, this is something he’s allowed to do, because he loves Evan and Evan loves him and it’s okay now, it has to be okay now.

 

He has to be okay now.

 

They eat their Thai food and Evan tells Connor about the case he’s working on, and Connor forces himself to eat because if he’s eating then he’s not freaking Evan out, and that’s important, he doesn’t want to freak Evan out, he never wants to freak Evan out, Evan’s got enough to worry about with his stressful job, he doesn’t need Connor’s bullshit on top of all of that.

 

They curl up in bed and watch more Parks and Recreation once they finish with the food, and once again Connor thinks he might doze off, but he doesn’t want to waste this time, so he keeps himself awake. But soon enough, Evan’s heading home, and Connor’s wide awake again.

 

And it’s another night of insomnia.

 

Wednesday he’s working with Maureen, who looks more than a little alarmed at the sight of him. “Are you okay?” she asks immediately, and Connor nods and smiles and assures her he’s fine. It’s a busy day, and he drinks a lot of coffee and he throws himself into the work and he texts Evan whenever he gets the chance with funny customer anecdotes and asks him about his day and Evan texts back when he gets the chance and apologizes for being busy. Apologizes that tonight he’ll be working late, that he’s got something he needs to get done before 9am the next day, and Connor replies that he understands and his stomach churns because what if the reason that he’s having to get this done so close to a deadline is because he dropped everything to look after Connor? What if it’s Connor’s fault, what if he’s ruining Evan’s career, what if he’s fucking it all up for Evan?

 

After closing, he has another couple of bites out of yesterday’s deli sandwich, but that’s all he can manage. He does some work on the accounts for the store for a few hours, hoping he’ll wear himself out so that he can actually sleep, and when midnight rolls around he thinks maybe he might. Maybe he might actually rest, maybe it might actually be okay.

 

When he gets into bed, everything feels… unreal. Like it’s turning, like the room is moving of its own accord, and it’s dark but he can still see the shadowy outlines of objects in his room like his dresser and the door to his closet and he could have sworn he saw something move.

 

He stays very, very still, because he has to be seeing things.

 

It stops for a while, and he lies awake for a while longer, thinking that it has to happen soon, he has to sleep soon, if he just lies down and closes his eyes, he’ll fall asleep, sleep will have to capture him because he’s exhausted, he’s so tired, he needs to be sleeping why can’t he fucking sleep what the fuck is wrong with him what’s going to happen if he can’t sleep his dad said he’d stop sleeping and he was right and he can’t be right because if he’s right then it’s all ruined, then it’s as bad as he thinks it’ll be, and it’ll all fall apart and if it all falls apart then Evan won’t love him anymore and Evan can’t see him like this he can’t he can’t Connor won’t be the person who hurts him it’s not how it works he’s supposed to help him he’s supposed to make things better he’s supposed to take care of him he’s not supposed to be causing him pain and he made Evan look after him for a whole week, what was he thinking, how selfish could he be, how selfish is he, he’s so selfish and he owes Evan seventy fucking thousand dollars worth of legal fees and _what happens when it all falls apart, Connor? Are we going to find you bleeding out in a bathtub again?_

 

There’s something moving in the corner of his room. In the corner of his eye.

 

Maybe it’s his jacket, or a guitar player who remembers things that never happened, or a six-foot tall teenager drenched in water and dripping blood from slit wrists.

 

Connor blinks a few times. Tries to gather himself, tries to pull himself together.

 

He turns on his bedside light.

 

The shadows keep moving.

 

The shadows keep moving they’re moving the shadows are moving and they look like him, they look like his own ghost because he almost died when he was seventeen and he died and died and died and died a year and a half ago on his twenty-seventh birthday and maybe Death is catching up with him, maybe it’s all catching up with him, how long can you go without sleep before you die, is this the next way he’s going to die, has he been dying this whole time and everything’s just been a dream, does Evan really love him, was Evan really ever even here, did Connor just imagine it, just want it so badly that he made it true in his mind?

 

Connor’s heart is pounding hard in his chest. So hard that it hurts him.

 

It hurts it hurts it hurts

 

Connor picks up his phone and sees that it’s three in the morning.

 

His hand is shaking.

 

_Are we going to find you bleeding out in a bathtub again?_

 

This apartment has a bathtub there’s a bathtub oh god what if he’s there, what if he’s there now, what if this is just a dream and he’s there fuck fuck fuck

 

He can’t do this. He can’t do this alone, he needs… he needs…

 

He remembers a piece of paper he made over a year ago. A plan to keep him safe, that was supposed to be a just in case but now he thinks he needs it.

 

He knows he needs it.

 

Connor clicks on a contact and makes a phone call with shaking hands.

 

It takes a few rings for the call to connect and the person on the other end to answer. Zoe’s voice is worried but thick with sleep. “Connor?”

 

“There’s something in my room.”

 

“Connor, are you okay?”

 

“There’s something in my room, Zoe, I can _see_ it. I know it’s not… I know I _can’t_ be seeing this, I know that… I’m just… I’m seeing things, I’m _losing_ _it_ and I didn’t know what to do so I called you because that’s the plan, if things are bad I call you. I… fuck, Zo, I’m sorry, I know it’s late-”

 

“You did the right thing,” Zoe says, and her voice is calm and warm and professional. “I’m going to keep talking to you while I get ready, but I’ll order a Lyft and be at your place soon, okay? As soon as I can.”

 

Connor manages to make some kind of noise to confirm he’s heard her, and from then on, Zoe narrates what she’s doing as she gets dressed and makes her way to the bookstore. When she says she’s a minute away, Connor heads downstairs, still holding his phone, and he waits by the front door for her to arrive.

 

Zoe doesn’t end the call until she’s physically in front of him, pulling him into a fierce hug.

 

Connor sobs in his sister’s arms for what feels like hours, in the doorway of his bookstore at nearly four in the morning. He’s barely there as she walks him through locking the door, rearming the alarm, heading upstairs and sitting at his kitchen table. Soon, there’s a cup of peppermint tea in front of him, and Connor doesn’t think he has peppermint tea, so she must have brought it with her, and she’s holding his hand and talking to him softly and he feels like he’s underwater.

 

“Connor. Connor, hey. Just focus on my hand in yours, okay? Focus on how it feels. Remember that time I tried to cut an avocado when I was fourteen and sliced my hand? I still have a scar there in between my thumb and my finger, can you feel it? Just run your fingers over it for me, can you do that? Just here. Like that, yeah.”

 

“I remember,” Connor manages to say, feeling like he’s not really here but remembering the incident in question. He’d been kind of high and he’d gone into the kitchen to find something to eat, only to see Zoe trying to slice an avocado, and they’d ignored each other until Zoe’s hand slipped.

 

He remembers her screaming in pain, and him realizing what had happened and grabbing a tea towel and wrapping her hand in it as quickly as he could, putting pressure on the wound, and it had just bled so fucking much, and she’d been sobbing and their mom had come running and then Zoe was being rushed to the emergency room and Connor had been so freaked out by it all that he’d, like, cleaned the kitchen to get rid of the blood, which was definitely not one of his go-to moves as a fifteen-year-old shithead.

 

“You had stitches,” Connor recalls, feeling like he’s coming back to reality with every passing second. “And you were really pissed off about it because it meant you couldn’t play guitar.”

 

“Fuck avocados,” Zoe says, with a small laugh.

 

Connor laughs a little as well.

 

He looks at his sister. She’s pale and her face is tight with concern but her eyes are kind and warm and she’s rubbing his hand comfortingly. “What’s been going on?” she asks gently. “Do you know what might have gotten you so freaked out tonight?”

 

“I haven’t slept,” Connor confesses.

 

“Since when?” Zoe asks, and he can see her shoulders tensing.

 

“Saturday?” Connor guesses. He shrugs. “I just… can’t sleep, I want so badly to sleep, but my brain is just… I keep thinking about when I was… I keep thinking about high school and…”

 

Zoe’s shoulders have tensed even more, but her voice is even. “You’re thinking about what happened your senior year?” she asks quietly. Connor nods, and Zoe takes in a breath. “Okay. When you say you’re thinking about it, are you… are you thinking about doing something to hurt yourself like that?”

 

“I don’t want to hurt myself,” Connor says shakily. “I don’t. But I feel like I… like something’s going to happen, like I’m going to get hurt, or maybe Evan will get hurt or something will happen and I think I’m losing my mind, I… I… I have to be better than this, Zo, it’s supposed to be… it’s supposed to be better.”

 

“Connor,” Zoe says softly. “You were off your meds for a while, and you’re still getting used to being back on them, it’s going to take some time. It’s been just over a week. And you bought a new business, and you worked really hard to make it all happen, and then with what happened with Evan… you’re allowed to be having a rough time. It’s okay that it’s not immediately better.”

 

Connor feels himself tense up. “If I… if I can’t get my shit together, then I can’t… I can’t do that to Evan, I can’t make him worry, I can’t, I have to be okay, I-”

 

“You told me once that Evan understood you,” Zoe interrupts, her voice firmer now. “He understood what it feels like to… to struggle like you both have. If he understands, then he knows this, he knows that it won’t get better straight away, it won’t just get better overnight.”

 

“He was here for a week,” Connor admits quietly. “A whole week, he just… stayed, and looked after me, and he shouldn’t have… his therapist told him to go home, and he needs to look after himself, and maybe we… maybe I’m not good for him now. Maybe I should… I can’t hurt him, I _can’t_ , I already fucked it up enough and I can’t-”

 

“You’re not responsible for Evan’s health,” Zoe says, her voice still firm. “You can love him and support him but your health is your priority. It has to be. You’ve just said he was ignoring what he needed for your sake and is making the choices he needs to now to look after himself. That’s good, that’s healthy. But you can’t just wish yourself well because you don’t want to hurt him, Connor. Putting that expectation on yourself… it’s going to hurt you.”

 

They sit there for a moment. “I _hate_ this,” Connor admits quietly. “I love him and he loves me and it took us so long to get our shit together in terms of our relationship and I should be… fucking ecstatic about this. Over the fucking moon. But instead I’m this… exhausted shell where a person is supposed to be. Evan deserves better than this.”

 

“You can’t look at it like that,” Zoe says instantly. “It’s not about what Evan deserves, it’s about what _you_ deserve. You deserve to be happy about this, you do. You deserve to be feeling better. It’s going to take time, and it’s going to take work, but… Connor, I _know_ you. I know how fucking stubborn you are.” She smiles a little. “You’re going to be okay. You want to be okay, and you’re going to be okay.”

 

Connor nods. Blinks a few times. Rubs his face.

 

“I’m so tired,” he admits. “I just can’t fucking sleep and I’m so tired.”

 

Zoe nods. “I figured,” she says softly. “I have something I take to help me sleep sometimes. It’s over the counter and I know it’s not ideal but I think at this stage it’s just important that you sleep a little bit. When are you seeing Praveed next?”

 

“Tomorrow,” Connor says wearily. “At four. I figured I’d take a late lunch break.”

 

“I don’t think you should be working tomorrow,” Zoe says, her voice firm again. “Who do you work with on Thursdays, usually?”

 

“Leslie.”

 

“And you trust her to run the place by herself?” Connor nods. “Okay. Here’s the plan. You’re gonna take a sleep aid and finish your tea. I’m going to find some clean sheets and remake your bed - it might just be nice to have fresh sheets if you’ve been tossing and turning for a bit. Then you can get some sleep.” Zoe squeezes his hand again. “And I’m gonna stick around. I’ve only got a couple of clients tomorrow, so I’ll reschedule and make sure you get to your appointment and also talk to Leslie. Okay?”

 

Connor looks at the table. “I’m so sorry to wake you up in the middle of the night. You shouldn’t-”

 

“Shut up. I love you.” Zoe squeezes his hand tight. “Let’s get you some rest, okay?”

 

Sure enough, they follow Zoe’s plan to the letter, slowly and simply. It’s nearly five by the time Connor actually gets into bed, and he can feel the sleep aid he’s taken start to have some kind of effect. Zoe plugs in her phone on Evan’s side of the bed, then climbs in next to Connor and announces she’s set an alarm so she can get everything sorted in the morning, but that she’s going to try to get some sleep as well.

 

When the bedside lamp is turned off, Connor feels himself tense. He doesn’t want to look at the corner of the room because he’s terrified of what he’ll see.

 

Zoe reaches out and grabs his hand and holds it tight.

 

Connor can feel the faint scar between her thumb and her finger. Lets the memory tether him to reality.

 

Slowly, mercifully, he feels himself drift off to sleep.

 

* * *

Evan and Mariah finished an arbitration meeting for the day around four o’clock, and the pair of them high fived because it looked like it was going their way. “You kill me, dude,” Mariah said.

“Why?”

“Because you’re basically a marshmallow in real life, but the second you get in front of a judge you’re like… laser focus. Like, Karen, activate instant kill.”

Evan felt his face flushing, then said, “Wait, is that a Spider-Man reference?”

“You know it. Tom Holland is the cutest Spider-Man. I could be _his_ Karen, if you get my meaning.”

“Gross. He’s in high school, that is illegal in so many ways.”

“He’s of age in real life, so it’s not weird! I’m not into _Peter Parker_.”

Evan shook his head. “You are so weird.” He fished his phone out of his pocket because he been in that meeting since nine o’clock with only one short pee break and a very dissatisfactory lunch which they had eaten while they worked so he hadn’t checked in on Connor and he felt massively guilty because they usually texted a lot during the day.

But there were no texts from Connor.

Just a voicemail from Zoe.

Evan felt his heart sink.

“Still want to grab coffee in fifteen?” Mariah said. “If I don’t get some caffeine in my veins I will pass out at my desk.”

“Sure, yeah,” Evan said, distractedly. He parted ways with Mariah, heading to his office and shutting the door and playing the voicemail.

_“Hey Evan, sorry for calling you at work. Will you give me a call when you get a chance? Connor’s… Just give me a call when you can, okay? Thanks.”_

Oh god.

Oh god oh god oh god.

Connor was dead. He was dead and Zoe was calling to tell Evan he was dead he had died he was dead and he hadn’t taken Evan with him this time and it was over and he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t take it he couldn’t he couldn’t.

His hands shook when he called Zoe. He couldn’t know until he knew.

_“Hi you have reached the voicemail of Dr. Zoe Murphy. I’m currently not able to take your call. If this is an emergency, please hang up and dial 911.”_

Evan didn’t know if it was a fucking emergency because Zoe hadn’t answered her fucking phone. He tried to take a deep breath, something to force himself to be calm, but he felt like he was drowning, like something was crushing his chest and he thought this might be it, this might be when he coughed up pine needles or razor blades, it might be when he died of a spontaneous crush injury because if Connor was gone he was gone, that’s how this worked, that was how this worked wasn’t it?

Evan set his phone down on his desk shakily and then his legs couldn’t hold him up anymore and he basically crawled behind his desk so nobody would see him breaking down, losing it. He hugged his knees to his chest and he was dying this was dying he had to be dying because if Connor was gone…

Connor couldn’t be… she wouldn’t have left a voicemail like that if Connor was dead. Zoe would have just kept calling him, she wouldn’t leave him a vague and distressing voicemail if he had died, would she? Why wasn’t she calling back he needed her to call him back fuck fuck what had happened.

“ _Connor’s… Just give me a call when you can, okay? Thanks.”_

This was no good, this was not good, this was bad this was… that was bad that was Bad and if Evan let himself go into that Bad Place he wouldn’t climb out of it this time, he knew he wouldn’t, he’d sink into it permanently, there was the ever-looming threat of not being able to get back up if it happened again.

Fuck fuck fuck this was bad this was really bad, he had to stop this, he just had to stop be better be stronger but his brain was trying to smack the EJECT button, it was a loud siren echoing “ABORT MISSION” and Evan hated how fast he was calculating he could get to the roof of the building, how quickly he could bow out of existence if Connor was dead… if he was gone, well there was no point was there, no reason to bother fighting and trying anymore…He didn’t want to do this anymore, he didn’t.

Fuck he was losing it and Zoe hadn’t called back and he was probably dying right now. He kept waiting for it, for the inevitable pain, to wake up looking straight at his mirror.

“Yo, Spider-Man, let’s get some… Evan?”

Evan pressed his hand to his mouth, trying to cover the sound of his ragged breathing, hoping Mariah would just leave, would think he had gone to the bathroom or something. He could see the tips of her sensible loafers and she took a step toward him and fuck fuck fuck fuck…

“Evan?” She peered around the desk. Her eyes went really wide. “Uh, fuck, you alright?”

Evan shook his head, unable to find his voice, hand still pressed over his mouth, breathing still too loud and too obvious.

“Shit,” Mariah said and Evan thought for a moment she was leaving and he was equal parts grateful and horrified at being discovered like that. Evan noted, to his horror, that he had started to cry, his face slick with tears and his nose congested. Fuck fuck.

Mariah’s shoes returned a minute later, with a water bottle and she shut Evan’s office door before coming to sit on the other side of his desk. She set the water bottle beside him and then said, “Where do you keep your drugs?”

Evan couldn’t find his voice, so he shakily pointed at his bag and Mariah went into it, pulling out his cigarettes first and casting Evan a surprised look, but then she pulled out the bottle of Valium. She shook one pill out of the bottle, placing it in Evan’s shaky, sweaty hand. He put it in his mouth automatically, then picked up the water bottle and took a drink so he could swallow. Mariah took a seat on the floor across from him, nevermind her nice pantsuit, and mostly just stayed quiet.

Evan didn’t know what to do with that. He should just leave. As soon as the drugs kicked in, he ought to leave, because he had to go, his time was up, he was finished…

Mariah passed him a small pack of Kleenex. Evan took one, knowing she meant for him to mop his face up because this was embarrassing, he should be ashamed of himself, this was an office a place of business and he was behaving unprofessionally.

Mariah just sat on the floor with him, even though she definitely had better things to do, even though this was a workplace not a daycare, even though Evan was mortified that she had seen him this way, she sat there on the floor and occasionally prompted him to drink some more water or to stop holding his breath.

“Did… did something happen?”

Evan didn’t know how to answer. But he had stopped hyperventilating so he tried. “I uh. Connor… he’s been doing pretty badly recently and his sister left me this message and…”

Mariah nodded. She grabbed the phone, handed it to Evan to unlock, and said, “Well let’s hear it.”

Evan put the message on speaker. _“Hey Evan, sorry for calling you at work. Will you give me a call when you get a chance? Connor’s… Just give me a call when you can, okay? Thanks.”_

Mariah wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t she a therapist? That message is vague as hell. She should know better than to leave a message like _that_ , it sounds like he’s...” Mariah stopped.

“I know.”

“Did you call her back?”

“Tried to but she didn’t… she didn’t answer.” Evan wiped his face again. “He’s dead right? That’s a… that’s a he’s dead message. Right?” Because that was obviously why the message was vague, she didn’t want him to learn this news via a voicemail, and she wasn’t picking up, probably calling their parents and they’d have to plan a funeral and what would happen to the bookstore, did Connor have a will? Should Evan have made him set up a will? Zoe was his beneficiary on his insurance forms, would she get the store, would she want the store?

“I don’t know what that message means,” Mariah said, her voice soft and even. “But I think jumping to the worst possible conclusion seems a bit premature.”

Evan stared at her. Because she didn’t get it. She didn’t get that less than two years ago that wasn’t the worst possible conclusion, it was a foregone conclusion, the simplest solution. That he and Connor had died so much that obviously Death was always lurking, always just one step behind them, that soon enough it would catch them both and Evan had only hoped it would at least be decent and take them both at the same time.

“I just mean… She sounded worried, but not devastated in that message you know? If my brother died unexpectedly, I would be devastated.”

“You have two sisters,” Evan said.

“Metaphorically,” Mariah said. She put her hand on Evan’s. “She’ll call you back and tell you what’s happening. Maybe she’s just busy right now? I know it sucks…”

Evan stared at her, helpless and embarrassed and fucking scared.

“You… can I do anything?”

Evan shook his head. He had to go he had places to be, places to die…

“I’m just gonna stay with you for a bit.”

“I’m fine, really, sorry for scaring you -”

“You’re not fine,” Mariah said, her tone dismissive. “And you don’t have to be fine. You’re scared and that’s normal. So I’m just gonna stay here with you for a bit.”

So she did. She sat on the floor and checked her emails, narrating the important ones to Evan in this calm voice. “Ah, Jonathan’s going to the Hamptons to close up his house this weekend,” She said. “Oh and looks like Deb’s made senior partner. Nice job, Deb.”

Evan nodded vaguely, the drugs having kicked in and made him sort not really there. He was half there, half in his head where now that his panic had subsided, his brain was working out a quick and efficient exit strategy. He had died enough times that he had a lot of options here. Jumping was a preferred method of his but his success rate was pretty low there. Probably best not to do that. Maybe he could cut his wrists? But that sounded painful and then Alex or Mattie might get stuck dealing with the body which was just unfair. Couldn’t do that to them. Or his mom, fuck, she would be so upset but…

He couldn’t think about that. This was not negotiable. If Connor was gone, Evan was too, he couldn’t… he couldn’t. Planning, he had to plan. He could make it look like an accident maybe? Walk in front of a bus or a train, that was believable. Hurt like a bitch but normally pretty quick. He could stand that amount of pain to get out of this, he could handle that amount of pain to follow Connor because wasn’t he always following him?

His phone began to buzz.

Zoe.

“Evan?” Mariah prompted softly, and he picked the phone up fast.

“Zoe hi,” He said, breathless, clearly panicked.

“Evan shit, I’m sorry, I had to do a phone session with a fifteen-year-old and I couldn’t click over because she was pretty upset,” She said.

“Is Connor okay?” Evan asked.

“Yes. Well. He’s having a hard time… he stopped sleeping for a couple of days. He scared the shit out of me, calling in the middle of the night last night… but he’s in a session with Praveed right now and our mom is flying in tomorrow.”

“He’s alive?” Evan said, his voice breaking.

“Oh god, Evan… I probably scared the hell out of you with that message. I’m so sorry. Yeah, Connor’s alive. He’s just having a hard time, and I thought you should know what was going on.”

“He hasn’t been sleeping?” Evan said, his voice small. “But he said… he’d told me he was sleeping okay, he’d said…”

“I think he was trying to hide it. I think he… didn’t want to worry you. But he told me, and I stayed with him last night. We’ll get it figured out.”

“He’s… he’s okay?”

“He will be.” She sighed. “If nothing else, he’s safe. Why don’t you come by the bookstore when you’re off of work, okay? We’ll talk. Make a game plan for the next few days.”

“Okay,” Evan said, breathless.

“Sorry I scared you, I just… this morning was kind of rough.”

“It’s okay,” Evan said quietly. He hung up, tilting his head back against the wall of his office, his eyes closed, his heart still racing.

“So. He’s alright?”

Evan nodded, feeling tears prickling behind his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, his voice raspy. “You didn’t have to stick around for this. I know it’s… I know I’m not…”

Mariah smiled at him. “Oh, babe. You’re fine. I’m sorry Connor’s not doing so well. And that you’re worried about him.”

“Thanks.”

She bumped her knuckles against Evan’s lightly. “Why don’t you get out of here for the day? The arbitration is over and Jonathan’s probably already on the road.”

“You think?”

“I’ll swear you went home with gnarly food poisoning if anyone gives me grief.”

“Thank you. Seriously.”

“Yeah man. Anytime,” Mariah said with a smile.

Evan made his way to the bookstore, sitting anxiously on the subway unable to block out the fact that it reeked of urine. He was crushed under the realization that he had done this. He had done this to Connor, by insisting he go back to his own place. Connor had slept when Evan was there. He’d slept and he’d ate and he seemed to be getting better and then Evan just selfishly left him and Connor wasn’t okay and it was his fault, his fault, he was stupid and selfish and he didn’t deserve Connor because Connor would never have put him in this position, he wouldn’t have.

“Hey man, careful.”

Evan looked up. A hipster in a beanie pointed to Evan’s hand and he realized with distant horror that he was bleeding, having ripped a decent chunk of his cuticle off. “Shit, thanks,” Evan said, putting pressure on the wound. It stung, but eventually the bleeding stopped. Everyone else on the subway was staring at him, the crazy guy who didn’t notice the blood dripping off of his fingers, didn’t register pain, and he had to get off this fucking train he had to go he had to leave he couldn’t do this...

He kept waiting for the thoughts of ending it to go away now that he knew Connor was safe, but if anything they just got louder.

Worthless, stupid, Connor probably hated him, Connor didn't call Evan himself because he hated him, Connor would be better off if he was gone. He had ruined his life several times, over and over, getting him killed and putting him here in this position and Evan was probably just going to be like this, this pathetic needy thing forever and he should just kill himself and get it over with already.

Fuck.

_Nope._

He couldn’t be doing this right now. He could not be sitting here having suicidal thoughts, not now, not today. 

Connor needed help and he could not be doing this thing at this moment. He had to hold on.

Evan shook his head, getting off the subway. He walked a couple of blocks, smoked as he did. Wiped his face a few times and fished an old wet wipe out of his bag to erase the evidence of his bloody fingernail. He walked to the bookstore and saw Leslie’s face fall as she looked at him.

“Are Connor and his sister back?” Evan asked.

“Yeah they got back a little while ago. He didn’t look so great… is everything alright? You look… you looked pretty freaked out?”

Evan shrugged, heading up the steps and knocking softly on the door. A moment later, Zoe opened the door. She didn’t look her usual put together self. She had huge bags under her eyes and her hair pulled into a sloppy bun. “Oh,” She said, sounding surprised. “Connor said you normally work until at least six.”

“I got off early,” Evan said dismissively, “Can I see him?”

Zoe’s smile slipped off. “He actually just went back to sleep, sorry. He’s exhausted so I figured I wouldn’t wake him until he had to eat something.”

“Oh,” Evan said feeling sort of hollow. Connor was in the next room but he felt so far away right now. “No, of course, he should sleep… I’ll go. I can come back later. I’ll stay over tonight, so you can go home and -”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Zoe looked at him critically. “I’ll stay over tonight. Maybe you should get some rest yourself, come back tomorrow.”

“But I…. He’s…” Oh god had he said something, was Connor blaming Evan for this, had he done something else was he angry Evan had gone home he should have never gone home he should have just stayed. “I should be here. He’s always been there for me, and I… I left and this happened. It’s my fault. I should have been here.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Zoe said, her voice firm and professional. “And Connor told me you only went back to your own place because your therapist told you it might be for the best. I’d say she’s probably right.”

“I can’t just leave him alone like this!”

“You’re not,” Zoe said. “He’s got me. He’ll have my mom. You are not the only person who can help him.”

“I know but…” But he owed Connor. Connor had saved his life and he owed him everything and he couldn’t just leave him. “I can’t… I can’t just leave him, I can’t, I need to do something, I have to help-”

“You can’t help him like this,” Zoe said gently.

Evan felt that viscerally, like she had taken a knife and stabbed him with it. “I…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re probably right. I’m sorry. I…”

“You love him. I get it,” Zoe said, smiling. “But I’ve got this for now. Why don’t you plan to come over tomorrow when you get off of work. Our mom will be here, maybe we can all get dinner or something? Just to get him out of the house for a while.”

Evan nodded. “Will you… will you ask him to call me, if he’s up for a while? I just… I miss him.”

“Of course. I’m sure he misses you too.”

* * *

 

Connor doesn’t think he’s ever felt so pathetic. So helpless. So completely like a failure.

 

Praveed had been awesome. Completely awesome. He’d been patient and understanding but at the same time, he’d been pretty straight with Connor.

 

“I know things are rough right now, dude, and I really wish they weren’t. But it doesn’t make you pathetic and it doesn’t make you a failure,” Praveed had said in their appointment. “You’re here, and you’re doing what you need to get yourself healthy, and just because you’re not there yet doesn’t mean you should beat yourself up about it.” He’d sighed, a little sadly. “I know that’s harder said than done, man. But you’ve got people in your corner who love you, and who are here to support you. You got this.”

 

The day has been a blur, a complete blur, and Connor’s exhausted when Zoe gently shakes him awake and escorts him to the kitchen table to eat something. He manages to eat a couple of egg rolls and some sweet and sour pork and it’s been ages since he had sweet and sour pork because Evan doesn’t eat pork and…

 

He feels his entire body go cold. “Did you… did you tell Evan? About… this?”

 

Zoe’s brave smile wilts a little. “I did,” she admits. “He stopped by while you were sleeping.”

 

Connor’s heart plummets into his stomach. “He… you should have woken me up, I would have-”

 

“You needed the rest,” Zoe says firmly. “But he said to call him when you woke up next.”

 

Connor pushes some noodles around the takeout container, and he tries to figure out where his head is, because… he doesn’t know if he can face Evan right now, he’s so embarrassed and guilty and he knows he’s scared Evan and he hates it and Evan went home on his therapist’s recommendation because he wasn’t looking after himself properly and Connor knows firsthand what can happen when Evan isn’t looking after himself and what if Evan’s not doing good, what if Connor is making things worse for him?

 

Connor is _definitely_ making things worse for him, fuck fuck fuck.

 

“Does he… is he mad at me?”

 

“He’s worried,” Zoe says, her voice warm but laced with concern. “And he misses you.”

 

Connor nods. Rubs his face. He’s so tired.

 

So completely, down to the bone tired.

 

“I should call,” he says after a moment. “I’ll just be a minute.”

 

Zoe nods and Connor drags himself to his room to get his phone. He finds himself staring at it for a long time.

 

It feels weird and heavy in his hand.

 

When he finally makes the call, Evan answers after maybe four rings. His voice is urgent. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine-“

 

“Please don’t lie to me again.”

 

The words feel like a slap to the face. Connor takes a moment to let them sink in, his chest aching and his face burning and…

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I-“

 

Evan lets out this awful half laugh that’s just so sad and bitter and Connor hates it. “I’m the one who should be sorry, fuck, I’m sorry, I left you, I left you alone and this happened it’s my fault I did this, I-”

 

“This isn’t your fault,” Connor interrupts. “It’s not, I promise. I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I scared you, I…” Connor blinks and realises he’s crying and fuck fuck fuck.

 

“You’re safe?” Evan asks urgently.

 

“Yes,” Connor says, putting as much weight as he can muster into the word. He swallows hard. “Are you?”

 

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a long moment. “You don’t have to worry about me, Connor, not right now, you’re-”

 

“Evan. Are you safe?”

 

There’s a shaky breath on the other end of the line. When Evan speaks finally, his voice is small. So small. “You scared the hell out of me. Zoe called and left a message and I… I thought you were dead, I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t dead but I thought you were _dead_ holy fuck Connor I need you to stay alive, please please please stay alive I couldn’t… I’d… I don’t…”

 

Connor knows Evan’s crying and he hates it and he can’t do anything and he’s never felt so pathetic, so useless, so helpless.

 

He’s supposed to be an anchor, something Evan can rely on, something strong and steady, and he’s ripped that away and…

 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Evan, I didn’t mean-”

 

“This isn’t your fault,” says Evan, his voice shaking.

 

“It isn’t yours, either,” Connor replies immediately.

 

Evan doesn’t reply, and Connor is helpless.

 

“Zoe’s here,” he says, knowing his voice is shaking. “But you… are you alone?”

 

It’s quiet for a moment. “Mattie is in the living room.”

 

“Can you… can you not be alone? Just… sit with Mattie, when we stop talking? Just so there’s someone.”

 

Another silence. “Connor, I don’t want you to worry-”

 

“We’ve both given each other plenty to worry about over the last year and a half,” Connor points out wearily. “I don’t think we can avoid it.”

 

There’s a small chuckle. “Point taken.”

 

Connor feels himself starting to shut down. He’s tired, far too tired. “I don’t want you to be alone,” he says gently. “I just… I wish I could make this all go away and just…”

 

“Yeah.” There’s another pause. “You should sleep. You must be exhausted.”

 

“I am.”

 

Evan sighs. “You should have told me, Connor.”

 

“I didn't want to-”

 

“I know,” Evan interrupts. “But I can’t help if I don’t know, I…”

 

He trails off.

 

“I love you,” Connor says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

 

“I love you too,” Evan says, still sounding so sad and so worried. “I wish this wasn’t happening.”

 

Connor agrees completely.

 

The call finishes and Connor knows he should go back out and eat and talk to Zoe but he can’t make himself move. He crawls under the covers and feels himself fall asleep in seconds.

 

* * *

Evan didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help. This was his fault, he’d left Connor and things got so much worse and this was on him. He had done this. He’d done this to Connor, to the person he loved most, because this is what he did to people he used them up he made everything about himself…

Fuck. Evan was crying again. Fuck. He was so sick of it. Sick of all of it.

Connor had asked if he was safe and he couldn’t answer because he wasn’t. He wasn’t safe to be around, he was not a safe person, he was a bomb about to go off and he was going to take Connor with him.

Fuck.

He could not be doing this right now. He could not make this worse. He had to get it together, he could not be doing this, not now.

He wiped his face. His ribs hurt from holding in sobs, from making sure nobody could hear a thing, not even if they listened intently. Evan got up from his bed.

Did what he was told.

He went to the bathroom and washed his face and sat on the end of the couch where Mattie was watching _Grey’s Anatomy_ and doing something with her hair.

“Hey,” Evan said.

“Hi,” Mattie said. “Sorry, you caught me in the middle of my long week self-care routine. Grey’s and a twist out. Also I took a forty-five-minute long shower earlier, so I wouldn’t bother trying to use any hot water for a while.”

Evan nodded. “I’m sort of surprised you like medical shows since, you know. You’re a doctor.”

“I find it kind of familiar and relaxing.” Mattie shrugged. “You like legal shows, don’t you?”

“Sometimes.” Evan shrugged.

“You can put something else on if you want,” Mattie said. “But you’ll have to do it because my hair is covered in black girl magic right now.”

Evan smiled. “No. Grey’s is good. Thanks though.”

“You doing okay?” Mattie asked, her fingers still twisting out her hair.

Evan shook his head. “Bad day. But I’ll… I’m good.”

“Okay.”

They watched two episodes, Mattie wrapping her hair in a satin scarf and laughing as some plot about a baby because “that’s not even remotely realistic.” Evan smiled at her, and then Mattie pulled Evan into a tight and unexpected hug. She smelled like cocoa butter and also like butterscotch. “I’m going to bed. You’re gonna be okay. Wake me if you need anything, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Evan sat on the sofa. It wasn’t late. Connor didn’t want him to be alone and Evan couldn’t blame him because Evan was transparent, because always just made things so much worse…

His phone rang.

Sabrina was calling.

Evan should ignore the call. He’d put her through hell already with all of his bullshit…

No.

Fuck.

Evan answered because it felt safer than the alternative. “Hello?”

“So you know how I’m sort of psychic?” Sabrina started, and Evan almost laughed because she was always swearing she was sort of psychic back when they dated, when they lived together. It drove him crazy. She was too smart of that kind of bullshit. It was maddening. But she always insisted.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So Graham is in Berlin for like a week for some big banking related… whatever, there’s money and numbers and he’s been obsessively practicing his German on DuoLingo even though _everyone_ speaks English in Germany… Point is I knew I shouldn’t have taken the day off tomorrow to pick him up, because I totally called it and he’s sticking around for an extra three days.”

“You called it,” Evan echoed, sort of hollowly.

“I did. So now I’ve got this whole day off tomorrow and nothing to do with myself. And I’d just go in but they already hired a sub for my class so… Do you have any big work things tomorrow? Wanna play hooky with me?”

“I…” Evan didn’t know what to say. “Is that why you’re calling me? Because you knew Graham would get stuck in Germany?”

“No. I… I just got this weird feeling about you. Is that nuts? Sorry, I was trying to couch it in my funny psychic Germany story… But I just had a weird feeling about you so I thought I'd call and check in. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Evan said softly.

“Are you okay?”

Evan should lie to her. He was super good at lying to her, for starters. But he was exhausted and tired and alone and he had left Connor by himself and look what happened look what he had done…

“Not really.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Evan sighed. “Do I ever?”

Sabrina let out this sort of awkward laugh. “Well no, but…” She stopped. “Play hooky with me tomorrow. We’ll take your mind off of it, whatever it is.”

“Sabrina I can’t just call out of work.”

“A little birdy told me you have vacation and sick pay these days,” Sabrina said reasonably. “Would one day kill you?”

Maybe. He didn’t know what could kill him these days. Everything and nothing and definitely himself.

“I can’t -”

“We could do something. Remember when we first moved here, and we took that day to go to Coney Island? We rode the Ferris Wheel and you wouldn’t shut up about how it wasn’t even an island anymore, it was a peninsula because in the nineteen twenties they filled the water in.”

“Sabrina I’m not your boyfriend anymore, you don’t have to do this.”

She took a breath on the other side of the line. He could hear she was frustrated. “I know I don’t have to. But this is what friends do too. I’m worried about you.”

“Because you had a feeling?” He said caustically.

“No, because when I called you _because_ I had a feeling you told me you weren’t okay.” She sounded sad. “And I know how hard it is for you to say that you’re not okay so… Can I please help?”

“I don’t -” Evan started, cutting himself off, because. He would be lying if he said he didn’t need help. “I don’t want to go to Coney Island tomorrow.”

“We can do something else,” Sabrina said.

“Okay.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on now? Or should I start guessing?”

Evan rubbed a hand wearily over his face. “It’s Connor…”

“Are you two still not talking?”

“No, we’re talking…” Evan said, softly. “But.” He wiped his eyes awkwardly. “Connor’s in pretty bad shape right now. Like. Mental health wise and… I stayed with him last week, to try to help and… I got kind of overwhelmed so I. My therapist gave me this whole talking to about, like, establishing boundaries and I listened and I went back to my own place and then he… he stopped sleeping and he… Things are bad,” His breath hitched. “I shouldn’t have left him. Fuck. Fuck what the hell was I thinking, leaving like that?”

“Oh Ev,” Sabrina said. “This isn’t your fault. Did he tell you he couldn’t handle being alone?”

“No, but -”

“Did he ask you to stay when you said you thought you should go home?”

“No, but-”

“Then there was no way you could have known,” Sabrina said simply. “Unless you’re psychic, like me.”

Evan rolled his eyes.

“Are you okay? Are your roommates home?”

“I… Mattie is, but she’s on the early shift tomorrow so…”

“Okay, then you’re coming over. Go pack your jammies, we’ll have a slumber party.”

Evan huffed softly. “Sabrina, come on -”

“No, you come on. It’ll be like sophomore year. You had that roommate who used to sexile you all the time. Come over. We’ll eat popcorn and watch episodes of _Law and Order_ like we used to do in my dorm room. My couch is seriously, like insanely comfortable. Way better than that shitty futon I used to have. And then you’ll call in tomorrow and we’ll do something fun.”

“Won’t Graham be pissed?”

“Graham will not be pissed,” Sabrina said. “And even if he was, he’s in fucking Berlin.”

Evan chewed his lip because honestly, he thought maybe _Connor_ might be pissed. He was always weird about Sabrina. Connor… well he didn’t know exactly what Connor was to him these days, if jealousy was even something he had to worry about managing, and either way he was out of commission so.

“Fine. What’s your address?”

“God, I hate that you have to ask,” Sabrina said softly. But then she told him and he punched it into his phone. “If you’re not on your way in 30 minutes, I’ll call the National Guard.”

Evan rolled his eyes.

It was kind of nice to hang out with Sabrina. Made him feel less… like he had fucking ruined everything. It was also super weird, the two of them in their pajamas, because despite what she said it didn’t feel like college. In college Evan had been totally enamored with her, even before they started to date. It was just… so bizarre to him that she wanted to hang out with him, ever. He was so weird and quiet and sad and she was so loud and happy and bubbly, but she was always inviting him to her dorm room and he spent a lot of nights sleeping on her shitty Target futon, and almost as many walking her home from parties she dragged him to. They got together just before Thanksgiving his first year at Ohio State, after she insisted he stay over in her dorm room and then… her roommate was already home for the holiday. And she kissed him in the middle of an episode of _Law & Order _ and they had sex for the first time almost immediately after that and he was so convinced all of Thanksgiving break that she hated him, that they had moved too fast, but then she showed up at his mom’s house and that was that.

Being in her apartment with Graham didn’t feel like that. There was none of the tension, and Evan wasn’t obsessed with her the way he had been at nineteen.

And it wasn’t like when they’d lived together. When they first moved into their tiny first apartment together, the first few weeks were full of giddy excitement before school started for both of them. They each confessed that they felt like kids playing dress up, that they couldn’t believe they lived together, that Sabrina had a real job, that Evan was going to law school. They had sex in every single room in their tiny apartment and then once school started for them the fantasy wore off fast, and sometimes they would go days without ever talking and Evan started to pull away from her, slowly at first, and then all at once.

This wasn’t like that either.

Evan still felt worn out, exhausted and guilty and sad, but Sabrina just… kept him occupied. First she insisted they do face masks because apparently she thought Evan’s face needed “some fucking moisture like yesterday.” After that, they watched _Law & Order: SVU _ and ate a potentially criminal amount of popcorn, and even though Evan kept checking his phone sort of helplessly, he still felt more grounded, less out of control, less likely to disappear into the night never to be seen again.

“So… I was thinking tomorrow we could go get brunch, and then when we were finished we could. I dunno. Make some food to bring over to Connor’s?”

Evan realized to his absolute horror and mortification that he had teared up. He nodded swiftly, hurrying to wipe his eyes, to hide that because it was embarrassing, humiliating and Sabrina grabbed his hand. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” he asked because he had no idea what she was talking about.

“You don’t have to hide that you’re upset from me,” Sabrina said, and she put her hand on his shoulder. “You’re allowed to be upset. You can feel… however you feel. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Just… you don’t have to hide it. I’m not here to judge you. I just want to help.”

Sabrina put her arm around him and Evan pulled away. “What?” She said.

“Please… please if you do that, I’m just… I’m just gonna freak out and cry…”

Sabrina pulled her arm back for just a moment, and then her face shifted to one of hard resolve. “Fuck it. Cry, Evan.” She pulled him into a hug. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

It destroyed the last of his defenses. He rested his head against her shoulder, tears escaping faster, and he just let them, he couldn’t fight it. He’d fucked up so badly, he just kept fucking up and fucking up and it didn’t matter who it was, everyone who got close to him got hurt one way or the other.

“Please tell me about it,” Sabrina said softly. “Please.”

“I’m just… I’m so fucking scared. I’m so scared that I did this, that I made this worse for him…”

Sabrina clicked her tongue. “I know for sure that you didn’t do that.”

“You don’t though.”

“I do. You love him right?”

“Yes.”

“Then I know everything you did you did to try to help.” She rubbed his back gently. “You can’t save everyone, Evan. Sometimes people have their own shit. You’re doing what you can to help.”

“It’s not enough.”

“It is,” She said. “And I’m sure when Connor’s feeling better, he will tell you so.”

Evan was so exhausted that when Sabrina told him it was time for sleep, he didn’t argue. Instead, he got to his feet slowly and went to his bag to pull out his meds and then asked if he could go grab a glass of water. He could tell Sabrina was watching him intently as he filled up the glass in the sink, then opened up his pill bottle and shook one into his hand. He swallowed the pill with a couple of gulps of water, not really able to look at her. They had fought so much about him getting help, getting on drugs, and he had resisted and fought her so so much and here he was, taking drugs in her apartment with her perfect new fiance and… He hated that it made him feel so defeated and small.

“Evan?”

“Yeah?” He said softly, still not able to look her in the face.

“I… thank you for letting me help you today.”

Evan felt his eyes well up again, embarrassed, and how was it possible that he had tears left? “Thanks… for helping me out tonight.”

“Of course. Any time.” She walked over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m really proud of you, Ev. I know it wasn’t easy for you to ask for help and… I think you’re doing really well.”

Evan couldn’t look at her. He just hugged her back, and then mumbled that he was going to go and brush his teeth. He went into her bathroom, decorated in bright florals, toothbrush in hand. He brushed his teeth, staring at the pair of toothbrushes in the cup by Sabrina’s sink. Graham must have forgotten his at home. Or brought a specific travel toothbrush with him. He felt so strange and out of place here in his ex-girlfriend’s apartment which she shared with her very together, very solid fiance while he was quietly falling apart.

God, this was so weird. He was so weird. Evan should just leave, stop bothering Sabrina, stop butting into her perfect life…

He spat out his toothpaste, rinsed the sink.

Stared at himself in the mirror for a moment.

All he could think about was all of the horrible things he had said to Connor since they’d known each other, all of awful things that might have contributed to keeping him up for days and days and day.

_You’re just a… a fucking slacker who doesn’t actually have anyone in your life who actually cares about you._

_Your mom knows we’re just friends, right?_

_I don’t want anything from you._

_How do you… how do you know you’d be bad at dating if you haven’t tried?_

_What do you… why are you_ apologizing _?_

_So, I think I’m going to stay at my place tonight?_

Evan felt so fucking guilty.

So guilty.

He didn’t want to hurt Connor, he didn’t want to make things worse, he was trying to make things better not worse, he was trying to keep things from getting bad and instead he made everything so much worse, so much worse.

Evan rinsed the rest of the toothpaste down the sink. He took his toothbrush out of Sabrina’s perfect, couple-y bathroom. Sabrina was waiting for him in the living room, having made up the sofa for him.

“I hope you get some sleep,” Sabrina said to him.

“Thanks. Thanks so much for… for everything.”

She hugged him tightly. “I’m just down the hall if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

Evan lay down on the sofa, pulling the blankets up to his chin. Evan stared at his phone for a while, wanting to say something, anything to Connor to make this better, make this right…

But all he had was, _“Connor I love you so much. I’m so fucking sorry.”_

Evan fell asleep almost immediately. Sabrina wasn’t wrong about the sofa being really comfortable. He had emailed work saying he was taking a last-minute personal day, and texted Mariah to say he would be out. She had responded saying she hoped he felt better and Evan felt oddly better having her know a little bit about what was going on with him.

 

* * *

 

Connor wakes up to find his mom sitting on Evan’s side of the bed, reading a book.

 

It takes him a moment to figure out what the hell is going on. She smiles when she sees he’s awake and looks happy to see him, but her face is tight with concern and she looks older, somehow.

 

“Did you sleep well?” asks Cynthia.

 

Connor blinks a few times and nods, sitting up in a daze. “How long have you been here?”

 

“I arrived a couple of hours ago,” she says, like it’s no big deal. “Zoe’s got a client this morning she couldn’t reschedule but she’ll be back with lunch at midday.”

 

There’s a moment of minor panic. “What time is it?” he asks, and looks at his phone to find it’s about eleven. His heart starts racing and he pulls back the covers. “I need to open the store, I-”

 

“Leslie and Maureen have it handled,” his mom assures him. “Zoe talked to Leslie last night after she closed and she said she’d cover your Friday shift.” Connor’s mom takes his arm gently, pulls the covers back over him and kisses him on the forehead. “Rest up, sweetheart. You must be exhausted.”

 

“I am,” Connor admits. He’s trying to think back to what the hell has been going on, everything’s kind of hazy. He remembers talking to Praveed and picking up a prescription for something to help him sleep that he can take if the insomnia starts being a problem again. He remembers Zoe taking him to his appointment and taking him home and kind of just following her around like a zombie all through the day. He remembers talking to Evan on the phone and how panicked he’d sounded.

 

Fuck.

 

Evan.

 

Evan must be so mad at him, he’s completely fucked things up. And he lied to Evan, he never wants to lie to Evan, and Evan went home so he could take care of his own mental health and now Connor’s ruined everything by falling apart even more, and this is it, this is the end of it, Connor can’t…

 

Even if Evan still loves him, like he says he does, he deserves better than this.

 

Connor’s chest is painfully tight as he remembers how terrified Evan had sounded, how his voice shook and how the things he didn’t say spoke louder than any word he’d managed to choke out.

 

Connor knows what Evan sounds like when things aren’t good. He _knows._ And things… things aren’t good. They aren’t good at all.

 

And it’s Connor’s fault. It’s _completely_ his fault, it’s all his fault, he’s ruined it, he’s hurt Evan, he _never_ wants to be the one to hurt Evan but he’s done it, and it was better when they weren’t talking because at least then the only person Connor was hurting was himself, Connor can’t be responsible for causing Evan more pain, he can’t he can’t he can’t, he has to make it right, he has to…

 

He doesn’t know what to do.

 

His head hurts.

 

“I should…”

 

Connor’s words trail off because he doesn’t know how to finish that sentence.

 

“Zoe and I put together a bit of a game plan,” his mom says, her voice even and her eyes kind. “It’d be good to get you into a regular sleep schedule in time for Monday, but for now we just want you to sleep when you need to. I’ll be here for at least a week, seeing how you go.”

 

“The sofa is kinda uncomfortable,” Connor says guiltily. “To sleep on, at least. I’m really sorry-”

 

“One of our goals for the weekend is to get your spare room set up,” Cynthia interrupts, a smile on her face. “I ordered a bed for the room, it’ll be delivered tomorrow morning. Just need to move those boxes of books into the storeroom downstairs. Leslie and Maureen said they’d help move things this afternoon.”

 

“They shouldn’t have to-”

 

“They offered,” Cynthia assures him. “They wanted to know what they could do to help.”

 

Connor feels his face burning with shame. “This is so embarrassing, I’m their boss, I shouldn’t…”

 

“The boxes of books in your spare room should be in the storeroom of the bookstore,” Cynthia points out. “It’s perfectly within their scope of work as bookstore employees.” She pushes his hair off his face, then takes his hand and squeezes it. “Do you want to go have a shower? It might make you feel a little better.”

 

His mom is right. After a shower, he’s feeling considerably more human. When he’s done, he heads into the kitchen to find his mom is making hot chocolate, and they sit and drink some for a while, which is nice. Connor’s not really hungry, so since Zoe would be back in about an hour with some food, they decide not to bother trying to make Connor eat breakfast.

 

While they wait for Zoe, they take a few boxes from the spare room to the storeroom, and after three trips up and down the stairs, Connor is exhausted, and that… scares him, more than a little. Leslie joins in to help after the first trip as the store is quiet, and makes him sit down at the kitchen table when she notices he’s clearly drained.

 

“I’m sorry you’re not doing so great,” she says quietly, taking a seat with him for a moment.

 

“I’m sorry you have to pick up the slack,” Connor replies instantly, frowning. “You don’t work Fridays usually, this is… I’m sorry.”

 

“Strudel still needs that surgery so I’m happy to work overtime,” Leslie points out. “And I want to help.” She bites her lip. “I wanted to run something by you, actually.”

 

“Sure,” says Connor, trying to focus because Leslie has been amazing and he owes her his attention even when his brain is kind of like soup right now.

 

“I have a friend who’s looking for some part-time work,” she says slowly. “They work in an elementary school helping with literacy programs some of the time, but the school only has so much funding to pay them and they’ve been looking for something else. I thought that maybe we could use an extra person here.”

 

Connor blinks a few times. “It’s been kind of busy,” he admits. “And I’m… I’ve been thinking about hiring someone new since the summer, but I wanted to get through the opening and I… when Maureen started, training her took a lot of time and I don’t think I have the energy to do that right now.” He stops. Thinks. “Hang on.”

 

He goes to his room, picks up his laptop and brings it back to the kitchen table, then goes through his files and finds the document he’d mocked up during a series of sleepless nights in July and sends it to the printer in the staff kitchen. “I tried to write a training manual,” he tells Leslie. “I’ve just printed it. Do you think you and Maureen could have a read over the next few days when you have some downtime? See if there’s anything else it needs, make sure it makes sense.”

 

“Definitely,” Leslie says with a nod. “Would you be interested in meeting Jax? I think they’d be a good fit. They studied children’s literature and really love books. The only reason I didn’t suggest them when Garrett left is because they were in Mexico for the summer teaching English, but they’re back now.”

 

“Sure,” Connor agrees. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he knows he’s struggling with a full work week at the moment. “Gladys actually suggested I go down to fewer days on the shop floor once I bought the place, I just… didn’t want to do it straight away.”

 

Leslie bites her lip. “I talked to her earlier in the week,” she admits, her cheeks turning a little pink. “I ran into her getting groceries? We live in the same neighborhood. She asked how the store was going, and how you were holding up, and… I don’t have much of a poker face. I’m sorry.”

 

Connor feels all the color drain out of his face.

 

Shit.

 

Fuck.

 

If Gladys knows that he’s fucking up his health, that he’s sick, she’s going to regret selling him the business, she’s going to… she’ll be so disappointed, he’ll have let her down, he’ll have destroyed something precious to her and Martha, he’ll have betrayed her trust, he…

 

“I just said you hadn’t been well,” Leslie rushes to explain, her eyes widening in alarm. “She talked about stopping by to drop off some food sometime. This was… this was before yesterday, it wasn’t… I’m sorry.”

 

“Not your fault,” Connor mumbles. He’s so fucking embarrassed. “Not your fault that I’m just… fucking everything up.”

 

“Hey,” Leslie says, her voice stronger than he expects from her. “You’re not fucking anything up. You’re just under a lot of pressure and you’re sick. It happens. I wish it didn’t, but it does.”

 

Connor rubs his eyes wearily. He’s so fucking tired. “I’ll let you get back to work,” he says quietly. “Tell your friend I’d like to meet them. Maybe Monday afternoon?”

 

“Okay,” says Leslie, and she pats Connor’s arm a little awkwardly. “Don’t worry about the store, okay? We’ve got this. Maureen and I have it under control.”

 

Zoe shows up with lunch not long after and she, Cynthia and Connor eat in Connor’s living room. She’s picked up Mexican food and Connor’s usually a fan but everything tastes like cardboard right now. He’s just… so fucking embarrassed, so fucking mortified, so completely lost.

 

Evan probably never wants to see him again. Not after he’s fucked up this badly. Not after he’s hurt him, after he’s lied, after he scared him and let himself get this bad. Gladys probably regrets selling him the bookstore. Leslie and Maureen are helping now but they’ll resent him soon enough, they’ll resent having a boss who’s falling apart, then people will stop coming to the bookstore and sales will drop and he’ll end up bankrupt and he’ll fall apart even more and _what happens when it all falls apart, Connor?_

 

“Connor. Connor, hey. Breathe. Can you focus on your breathing for me? That’s it. Just in and out, nice and steady. You’re okay. It’s okay, you’re okay, we got this.”

 

It takes him a long time to get his breathing back under control. He focuses on Zoe’s voice, talking softly and steadily, and when he finally finally finally feels like he’s breathing properly again, he’s so tired. He’s so fucking tired.

 

He doesn’t argue when his mother and his sister all but push him into his bedroom and make him go back to sleep.

 

* * *

Sabrina took him to brunch at some place with seriously good French Toast. Since they were playing hooky, she insisted they have mimosas and the pair of them got a little bit tipsy. Evan was sort of surprised to find himself sort of helplessly giggling a few times when Sabrina told him stories of her new classroom full of kids.

“And they’ll be okay having a sub this early in the year?” Evan asked.

“Oh please, it’s a Friday. Most weeks they’re all useless by Fridays anyway. It’s still too nice outside. Last week I totally showed a documentary on volcanoes instead of teaching science. Once winter hits, I’ll be more appealing than frolicking outside, don’t worry.”

Evan admired that confidence. He’d always been a bit jealous of how self-assured Sabrina was, all of the time.

Once brunch was over and Evan was feeling significantly lighter, they went back to Sabrina’s place armed with ingredients for banana muffins. Sabrina was a good baker and a better cook, even though she didn’t do it a lot. Evan avoided his phone. He was terrified of what information it might give him, of what he might find out if he heard from Connor.

“Banana muffins make for an easy snack or breakfast. Also, they’re amazing. I fucking love bananas.”

“Me too.”

“And I’m a good baker.”

“You are.”

“But I figured… I dunno. Food helps when things suck. And helping makes me feel better.”

“Yeah.”

So Evan assisted Sabrina while she baked. Mostly he just measured things, but she was chatty and upbeat and it made Evan feel less weighed down. Less like disappearing was inevitable. She kept him engaged and at the end there were muffins and he was seriously so grateful. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something bad was meant to happen.

Evan’s phone rang in the afternoon not long after Sabrina had pulled a dozen muffins out of the oven. Zoe. He watched it ring for a while, and Sabrina sighed and took the phone out of his hands. That was something she used to do a lot when they lived together and he always sort of hated it because he could answer the fucking phone, sometimes he just needed a minute, but in this instance Evan knew he wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to pick up because he was too scared of what the call could mean.

But Sabrina took it and said, “It’s Zoe.”

Evan nodded.

She answered the call. “Evan Hansen’s phone, Sabrina speaking.”

Evan could hear the tinny sound of Zoe’s voice, surprised, repeating, “Sabrina?”

Sabrina smiled and said, “Yeah, Evan’s at my place right now.” Her smile wilted a little bit. “Yeah, he said. Yeah. It sucks, for sure. How are you holding up?” Sabrina waited while she listened to Zoe. “Yeah, I could see that bringing up a lot of shit from high school. Yeah. Yeah, of course. Yeah, sure thing. Here he is.” Sabrina handed the phone to Evan.

He took it. His hands shook. God this was so fucking embarrassing. “Hi Zoe.”

“Hey Evan. How are you holding up?”

“Hanging in there,” Evan said, which was as honest as he would allow himself to get right now. “How about you?”

“I’m alright.” He could almost hear her faking a smile. “Our mom got in this morning. Connor’s mostly just been sleeping.”

“Okay.”

“So, do you still want to come with us to dinner? I think it’s best if we make sure he gets out of the house. Connor’s been pretty anxious and we’re trying to stop it from sliding back into agoraphobia. Would six o’clock work?”

“Are you sure?” Evan asked, because after what Zoe had said the other day, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she never let him see Connor again. This was so obviously his fault, he was shocked she would want him there at all. He was shocked she would let him within fifty yards of her brother after he left him all alone. And that was probably nothing compared to how angry Connor must be with him, how disappointed and upset he was because Evan couldn’t do one fucking thing to help the person he loved most.

“Yeah, of course. It would be good to get him out of the house a little, and I’m sure he wants to see you. Plus having you there might make it a bit easier on him leaving the house.”

“I just thought… I guess I figured you’d think me seeing him was a bad idea,” Evan said and there was a bit of an edge in his voice and he regretted it, he really did.

“Shit, Evan, that’s not… I just meant. My mom and I are here too. All of us are in this together, you know?”

Evan didn’t know how to respond.

“Will you please come to dinner?”

“I’ll come, yeah.”

“I’ll text you the address,” Zoe said. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

Evan doubted that very much. “Alright.”

“Great.”

They hung up. Evan set his phone down, and Sabrina gave him a look. “What?” Evan asked.

“Just. I’m sorry you’re going through this,” she said. She hugged him, tight and hard and it made him feel just a little bit better.

He went home a little while later, armed with a container of muffins and a note from Sabrina to Connor. At his apartment, Evan showered. He got dressed. He ignored the impulse that made his hand twitch and made him wonder what would happen if he picked up the bottle of pills from his backpack and took them all, if he’d wake up in the bathroom staring at the mirror or if he’d finally get to stop.

Evan should call his goddamn therapist but he didn’t want her to know about this because he had this stupid fear that she would be disappointed in him.

He took time to shave and then he picked out a button down and some jeans and just waited around until it was time for him to go to this dinner which he was sure would be harrowing.

* * *

 

The restaurant Zoe’s picked out for dinner is quiet and out of the way, which… helps. Makes Connor feel less like everyone’s looking at him, like everyone’s judging him, like everyone’s figured out he’s a complete failure and mess of a human being.

 

He gets that Zoe and his mom want him to get out of the house, and he’s glad they’re here and he wants to not worry them quite so much, so he’ll do what he’s asked, he’ll play along. He’s tried to dress nicely and brush his hair but he feels completely wiped out, completely drained, and there’s this weird buzzing in his ears and the thought keeps running through his mind that this is going to be a disaster.

 

Especially since Evan’s meeting them there.

 

Zoe assures Connor that she hadn’t forced Evan to do this, that he’d said he wanted to see him, but Connor’s not an idiot. Evan’s probably freaked out, probably still freaking out, but he wouldn’t have said no to Zoe asking him to join them for dinner.

 

Even if he’d wanted to.

 

When they arrive, Connor spots Evan immediately. There’s a bag at his feet, the bag he usually brings when he’s staying over at Connor’s.

 

It gives Connor the tiniest bit of hope that Evan hasn’t given up on him yet.

 

He’s in jeans and a button down shirt and he looks like he’s taken care with his appearance. Evan looks good, but at the same time… he doesn’t. He’s pale and he looks worried and he’s chewing at his cuticles and Connor did this, this is Connor’s fault, he hates it he hates it he hates it.

 

“Hi,” says Connor awkwardly as soon as Evan sees him. Evan’s eyes widen and there’s the briefest smile on his face, before it falls and Evan’s just looking him up and down, like he’s looking for the cracks he knows are there, because Connor is falling apart.

 

“Hi,” says Evan, standing up. He takes a step toward Connor, holding himself a little awkwardly, and Connor finds himself reacting on autopilot. He reaches out and wraps his arms around Evan.

 

They hug for longer than they should in a public restaurant, and Connor feels a little of the tension drain out of him, because Evan is holding onto him tight tight tight, like he’s trying to reassure himself that Connor is real, and maybe that means that he hasn’t given up on him completely.

 

Maybe.

 

Zoe takes charge and gets the waiter to seat them somewhere quiet and out of the way, which Connor appreciates. Zoe and Cynthia sit on one side of the table and Connor and Evan sit on the other. Evan’s picking at his cuticles and Connor can see that they’re starting to bleed, and he hates the idea of Evan bleeding, even though they died together so many times.

 

He takes Evan’s hand and holds it tightly. Evan squeezes it reassuringly.

 

Maybe he hasn’t completely given up.

 

“It’s so lovely to see you,” Cynthia says to Evan, her voice warm. “You’re really making waves in your field. I heard about your big win in April.”

 

Evan looks a little alarmed. “You heard about that?”

 

Connor’s mom smiles. “I was married to a lawyer for twenty years. I still hear things from the grapevine.” Her grin widens. “That case certainly got people talking.”

 

Evan smiles weakly. “It, uh… I was glad to get the result I wanted for my client. She deserved it.” He looks at Zoe. “How’s work?”

 

Zoe seems to get the hint and starts telling them about how she has a conference coming up in October which is around mental health for young people and how it relates to education. Cynthia perks up, clearly finding the topic interesting, and the conversation continues throughout the meal.

 

Connor’s having a hard time focusing but he nods and smiles and asks the occasional question so no one gets too worried. Evan’s grip on his hand only releases when their food arrives.

 

It’s a weird, surreal experience. Connor feels like he’s not really there, like everything is staged and deliberate, and his mom and sister are talking and Evan’s picking at his cuticles and is way too pale and keeps looking at him, face tight with concern, like he’s afraid Connor will disappear or dissolve into a puddle or just completely melt down and Connor’s watching Evan, too, watching him so carefully and he wants to smooth out the wrinkle between his eyebrows, wants to kiss his hands and stop him from picking, wants to run his hand comfortingly along his back, wants to…

 

Wants to fix this he wants to fix this but he can’t fix anything right now and maybe this was a mistake was this all a mistake?

 

When Connor’s mom goes to the bathroom, Zoe says she has to make a quick call, and then Connor and Evan are alone for the first time in days.

 

“How are you feeling?” Evan asks, his voice cautious.

 

“Weird,” Connor admits. “Just kind of… tired, mostly.”

 

“Makes sense.” Evan’s hand goes to his mouth and he’s biting his cuticles and Connor can’t help it, he has to take Evan’s hand away and hold it tight tight tight so he doesn’t hurt himself anymore.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

Evan visibly deflates. “You don’t have to be sorry-”

 

“I hate this,” Connor continues. “I hate… feeling like this, and knowing that I hurt you, and-”

 

“I shouldn’t have left you.”

 

Connor shakes his head. “That’s not true. You did what you needed to do for you, you were the one who said that we both needed to-”

 

“Exactly,” Evan interrupts. “Both. We both needed to. I was selfish. I only thought about me, about what I needed, and you-”

 

“I’m the one who fucked up here,” Connor insists. “But I’m trying, okay? I really am. I called Zoe and I saw Praveed and I have some meds that’ll help me sleep if I ever get like that again so… it’s all okay, I’m okay, you don’t need to worry, I… there’s a plan, I… you don’t need to worry, I hate that you worry.”

 

Evan sighs. “I’ll always worry.” He sighs again.

 

“I…”

 

Connor wants to say that he loves Evan. Wants to remind him, wants to fix this, wants it to be… to be the right thing to say.

 

But he doesn’t know if it is.

 

He doesn’t know if saying _I love you_ right now will help or just make Evan feel like he’s trapped. Like Connor’s trapped him, like he’s burdening him with his bullshit, like he’s piling on stress after stress that he doesn’t need, stress that he can’t handle, like he’s trying to drag him down.

 

He doesn’t want to trap Evan or burden him or drag him down.

 

He just wants Evan to be happy. Because he loves him so fucking much.

 

He squeezes Evan’s hand tighter instead, hoping it’ll communicate what Connor’s struggling to express.

 

* * *

Evan let Connor squeeze his hand tightly and didn’t pull away, even though he wanted to pull his hand away, even though he was desperate to pick at his fingernails because if it hurt, he was real, if he bled, he could be sure in the morning that he had survived the night… He had never told Connor but early in the loops, Evan had spent a lot of time convinced he was dreaming, hallucinating, breaking from reality because he had chewed on a hangnail causing a painful bloody mess on his right hand and then he’d died again and woke up to find the finger healed and perfectly healthy, like it had never happened, like Evan had never happened like he was imaginary...

And if Connor was squeezing his hand, then Connor was really here. He wasn’t a mirage or a delusion or a dream, he was real and he was breathing and Evan hadn’t seen him, he hadn’t seen him since Zoe’s message scared the absolute shit out of him, she wouldn’t let him see Connor yesterday and he needed to see him with his eyes, to make sure he was real. He was alive. It was sort of funny when they first met in that elevator, Evan sort of thought he was imagining Connor and now he feared that he might have started to imagine him again again, that Connor was gone and Evan hadn’t been able to cope so he invented phone calls and conversations…

But with Connor there, touching him, he could be a little surer this was real.

This dinner had been a disaster. Connor was barely there, almost half asleep, pale and not really saying much and it hurt to be here, to see this, to see Connor like this… Half of Evan just wanted to go home and forget this was happening. But he couldn’t he wouldn’t, he wasn’t going to do that to Connor, he mattered too much for Evan’s avoidance bullshit.

So he stayed put and let Connor squeeze his hand.

“Hey,” Evan said softly. “I… You know I love you, right?”

Connor’s eyes went wide, like he wasn’t sure what to say. And frankly Evan didn’t know either. He felt so lost, and he had never felt this lost when he was with Connor and he hated it so fucking much.

Connor’s mother reappeared in their booth, smiling at them both as she tidily took care of the bill like it was no big deal. “So, once Zoe gets back, I think we should get you back home Connor. You look exhausted, honey.”

“Yeah,” Connor said softly. He looked over at Evan, his eyes uncertain, and Evan took that as his cue to leave. Time to go. Connor didn’t want him here anymore, he got the picture. He squeezed Connor’s hand once more, then gently let go.

“Thank you so much for dinner,” Evan said in a rush. “I really really appreciate it.” He dove for his bag, which he had stashed under the table. “Connor I really hope you’re feeling better soon.”

“You’re going?” Connor asked softly and Evan flinched.

“Yeah, I mean, you… you obviously need to rest up and. Uh, here, shit, sorry, _fuck_ sorry, sorry for swearing Cynthia…” Evan stumbled over his words, breathless, “Connor, I’m sorry, I should have given these to you earlier, sorry, I wasn’t thinking but uh. Sabrina wanted me to give these to you… She, uh, said she’s sorry you’re not doing super great,” He said, shoving the muffins into Connor’s hands.

“When did you see Sabrina?” Connor asked in a small voice.

Evan felt his face heat up more. “I. Uh. Last night after we talked, I went to her place… ” He really really wished he hadn’t said anything, especially not in front of Connor’s mother fuck fuck fuck.

“Oh,” Connor said, his voice hollow, his eyes kind of vacant. His expression dulled considerably, face unreadable, and Evan hated it, he hated it so much he thought he might die of the pain of it right then and there, like he might summon a gas explosion just to escape it.

“Who’s Sabrina?” Cynthia asked.

“My friend,” Evan said at the same moment Connor volunteered, “His ex.”

Fuck. Fuck _fuck_ fuck, “I’m sorry, I should…” Evan said, getting up. “Thank you again for dinner. Connor, please call if you need anything okay? Anything at all. I…” He couldn’t say it now, he wasn’t sure what Connor’s mom knew and. Shit. He’d fucked this up so badly. He squeezed Connor’s hand and Connor barely squeezed back like he was so far inside himself that he couldn’t feel it like there was a pane of glass between Connor and the rest of the world and then Evan was hurrying out of the restaurant, getting as much space as he could between himself and that situation before he ducked behind a building, lit a cigarette and just.

Felt this. Felt the whole thing. How much he had fucked up. He shouldn’t have left Connor but he just kept hurting him and maybe the kindest thing to do was to stay away. Maybe the kindest thing he could do was disappear…

He couldn’t be doing this. He couldn’t be sitting here thinking about killing himself when Connor was in so much pain. It was selfish and unfair. And besides, he couldn’t even do it if he wanted, because Evan had no way of knowing for sure that a year and a half ago hadn’t been totally and completely his fault, that his suicides hadn’t caused the loops, that he hadn’t been the reason Connor had to suffer and die all of those times.

Fuck. Fucking fuck, this was bad this was really fucking bad but he couldn’t get that thought out of his head.

Fuck.

He picked up his phone, went to his contacts, and called Marcia.

She picked up of course. She usually picked up when he called because Evan never called for anything less than an emergency. He was a regular fucking emergency.

“Evan. How can I help you?”

“I…” Evan took a deep breath, then immediately spilled his guts, right there on the sidewalk. “I’m having suicidal thoughts and… I don’t know what to do.”

“Alright.”

“Connor stopped sleeping after I went back to my apartment and I think it’s my fault and I just can’t stop thinking about how he and everyone I care about would be better off if I just disappeared and… I just keep thinking about ways I could do it, and I’m supposed to be _better_ than this now.”

They talked for a while, probably the length of a regular session, Marcia’s sort of raspy but reassuring in his ear. They went through a safety checklist first to make sure Evan wasn’t an immediate threat to himself or others. It was weirdly sort of reassuring to say out loud that he had no actual plans to hurt himself or to hurt anybody else, and currently, no means to accomplish either. That it was just an annoying, intrusive thought that broke into his thoughts and his pain, like an irritating commercial that started to convince you after you got the jingle stuck in your head.

“You know, this is a really stressful situation,” Marcia said after Evan explained in detail what was going on. “And it makes sense for your brain to immediately go to thoughts of suicide. It’s how you learned to cope with stress for years and years, imagining an exit strategy. Even now, when you know that you don’t actually want to act on these thoughts, they come up easily because that’s what your brain has learned is the best way to relieve stress and tension. But calling me, reaching out when this happens? You’ve done that the last few times. And it’s retraining your brain. And someday, that might be the automatic reaction. Or at least, it might have to fight the suicidal thoughts in the race.”

“Yeah,” Evan said. He felt some of the tight knots in his guts unwind a little. “That makes sense.”

“The brain is mysterious and sometimes a bit arbitrary. The reason those thoughts are there are to help you cope with pain, which you’re experiencing now. It seems sort of counterintuitive, but thinking, ‘Well I could always kill myself’ is something you’ve used to sooth pain and anxiety in the past. They are trying to help you cope because that’s what you’re used to doing. But you can tell those thoughts, you know, I appreciate you trying to look out for me… but I can handle this without you.”

Evan almost smiled. Almost. “I’m scared that his family thinks I could hurt him.”

“They might,” Marcia said bluntly. “But that’s because they love him too. They want to keep him safe, and sometimes people can be a little overly cautious about the people they love. The important thing is that you don’t want to hurt Connor, and you keep showing up to prove that you won’t.”

“Yeah.”

She went through the safety checklist with him again. Once she was satisfied that Evan would probably survive the weekend, she booked him a lunch appointment on Monday and told him to do his best to get some rest and call her if anything changed. Evan could only wearily reassure her that he would do his best.

Evan walked home, feeling drained. He had hoped that dinner would have made him feel better but really, he was as worried as ever about Connor.

He slept for a long time that night. Evan texted Connor a couple of times on Saturday, hoping to hear from him, but he never did. He felt like he was sending texts into a void and he hated that Connor wasn’t responding, but reassured himself that if anything had happened, Zoe or Cynthia would call.

They’d call him.

And Connor was probably just catching up on sleep.

Which he needed.

But Evan missed him, Evan was worried sick about him, so every few hours he would send a text, some variation on, “I love you” or “I miss you” or “Just wanted you to know that I’m thinking about you and I love you so fucking much“ or “I hope you feel better soon.” Maybe he only did it to make himself feel better. Maybe he was selfish that way.

But he really really needed Connor to know he was on Evan’s mind.

 

* * *

 

Connor sleeps in on Saturday morning. Enough that his mom actually wakes him up and gently tells him he’s been sleeping for about sixteen hours.

 

Honestly, he feels like it’s been minutes. Like he’s barely slept at all.

 

Still, he drags himself up and out of bed and goes to the bathroom and then heads to the kitchen and just… sits for a while.

 

His mom makes him a cup of coffee and puts a muffin in front of him. Connor stares at it for a long moment before realising that it’s one of the muffins Sabrina made.

 

Because Evan was with Sabrina on Thursday night. Maybe on Friday. Connor doesn’t know for sure but he knows he doesn’t like it.

 

Not that he thinks Evan and Sabrina... did anything, because as much as he doesn’t like Sabrina he doesn’t think she’s the kind of person to cheat on her fiancé. And Evan…

 

Well, it’s not like Evan is Connor’s boyfriend, they haven’t talked about that, but Connor doesn’t think that Evan would tell him he loved him and then turn around and sleep with someone else.

 

It’s not the fact that Evan and Sabrina used to date that freaks him out about this. It’s that Sabrina _hurt_ Evan, and Connor’s supposed to be the person who helps. Who makes it better, who fixes it, who puts Evan back together.

 

But now Connor’s the one who hurt Evan and Sabrina is picking up the pieces and Connor hates it hates it hates it.

 

Sabrina’s probably telling Evan to stay away from Connor, to steer clear. They’re probably talking about how pathetic is, how stupid he is for being such a wreck, laughing at how easily he fell apart.

 

Hell, Sabrina’s probably been waiting for Connor to freak out like this ever since she realized he and Evan had reconnected as adults. She probably saw this coming seeing as everyone thought he was a fucking psycho in high school, fuck fuck fuck.

 

“You should eat something, honey.” The plate with the muffin on it is pushed toward him and Connor petulantly wants to just throw it on the ground. “These muffins are really good, and you know I can’t cook.” Cynthia smiles a little wryly. “Neither can your sister. It’s probably going to be takeout all week.”

 

Connor absolutely does not want to eat the muffin made by Evan’s ex who thinks he’s crazy and dangerous and unstable but he’ll do it to make his mom look less scared.

 

Eating the muffin feels like running a marathon. All he wants to do is just crawl back into bed, but he thinks that if he says that he’s just going to scare his mom even more and he doesn’t want to do that, he doesn’t want to hurt her any more than he already has.

 

“Zoe is going to stop by tonight,” his mom says, her voice soft and soothing. “She’s got some things she needs to take care of.”

 

“Right,” says Connor, his heart plummeting into his chest because of course she’s not here anymore because she has things to do, his sister had dropped everything to help him, because he was selfish and awful and called her in the middle of the night and woke her up and scared her and took her away from her actual fucking job and fuck fuck fuck.

 

“I thought maybe we could watch a movie,” his mom says with painfully obviously faked enthusiasm. “We’ll get settled in the living room and curl up in some blankets and watch a movie, what do you say?”

 

Connor doesn’t have the energy to disagree, so that’s what they end up doing for the afternoon. They work through three Harry Potter movies before Zoe shows up with a pizza, and Connor spends the whole time feeling like he’s not actually in his body, like he’s floating above observing, and it’s all just weird and sad and hollow and he misses Evan.

 

He misses Evan so fucking much, even when he saw Evan last night he was missing him, missing seeing him happy and smiling and calm and safe, and it’s Connor’s fault he’s so freaked out, it’s Connor’s fault that his fingers are bleeding and his eyes are hollow and Evan would be better off without Connor, it’s just painfully obvious, he knows that Evan knows that Sabrina knows that everyone knows everybody knows.

 

Getting through two pieces of pizza shouldn’t feel like an accomplishment but it does, somehow. Finally, finally finally it’s an acceptable time to go back to bed, so Connor takes his meds and crawls under the covers and sinks into sleep immediately.

 

He wakes up without someone waking him for the first time in a few days on Sunday and goes to check his phone, only to find it’s completely dead. He hasn’t been checking it the last few days, he realises, so he puts it on to charge and lies down again and falls back to sleep. When he wakes up next, he can hear noises in the kitchen and heads out to see his sister filling his cupboards with microwave meals and his mom drinking coffee.

 

“Hi,” he greets them, a little awkwardly. He’s just so fucking embarrassed.

 

“You’re up,” Zoe says with a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Like I’ve been hit by a bus,” he admits. He does however neglect to mention he knows how that feels.

 

“Evan will be here in like an hour,” she says. “I was just about to wake you up so you could shower.”

 

Connor feels a sharp jolt in his chest. “He’s… he wants to see me?”

 

Zoe’s eyes widen. “Of course he does,” she assures her, her voice soft and kind. “He loves you.”

 

“I didn’t mean to… I thought he was…” Connor trails off. Takes in a deep breath. Braces himself. “I’ll shower.”

 

It takes longer than it should for Connor to shower and change, but when he has he feels a little more human. He’s about to head into the kitchen when there’s a knock on his bedroom door and he goes to open it to reveal Evan.

 

He hadn’t even heard him arrive.

 

“Hi,” Evan says, his voice soft and his eyes worried.

 

“Hi,” Connor replies, knowing his voice is shaking.

 

Evan gestures to the kitchen. “Your mom and Zoe just left to get… burgers, I think? Zoe said I should keep you company.”

 

“You shouldn’t feel obligated-”

 

“I love you.”

 

Connor blinks a few times. “I love you too,” he replies, voice barely above a whisper. “But I… I’m not… I’m a fucking mess and you deserve better, you don’t deserve to-”

 

“Connor,” Evan interrupts, his voice unexpectedly firm. “I love you.” His cheeks flush but his voice doesn’t waver. “I need you to know that. I don’t… I hate that you’re not doing well, it scares me and I’m so so sorry you have to go through this, but… we’ve been through worse. You and I have been through worse. I can’t be here all the time and I have to make sure to take care of myself but I’m not… I’m not leaving you. I’m not giving up on this. I love you so fucking much.”

 

Connor feels his eyes start to burn. “I missed you,” he mumbles, and then Evan’s wrapping his arms around him and they sit on the edge of Connor’s bed, wrapped up in each other, for what feels like a very long time.

 

Slowly, very slowly, Connor starts to feel the tightness in his chest release.

 

* * *

“I missed you too,” Evan said. “So fucking much.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Connor’s head, lips softly brushing the damp hair. “I… I’m so sorry I haven’t been here. I should have been here.” He gently untangled himself from Connor so he could look at him. “And I know I kind of overdid it before but… Fuck, just leaving you all alone was shitty of me and we should have tried for a happy medium or something. I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you so much.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I was the one who… freaked out and lied and… I understand if you’re over this,” Connor said. “I understand if you’re over me.”

Evan took Connor’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “God, Connor, I don’t think I’ll _ever_ be over you,” he said, his heart pounding because he’d never really said this sort of thing to another person before. Never meant it this much before. “I am so in love with you that… God, I can’t imagine ever not being in love with you. You are the best person I know. You mean the world to me.”

“I’m so fucked up.”

“You’re really not,” Evan said, gently reaching out and tucking a piece of hair behind Connor’s ear. “You’re just in the middle of a rough patch, so it seems worse. These happen and god, I wish they didn’t happen to you because you don’t deserve feeling this way… but I am in love with you, and that’s not changing.”

“I thought maybe you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

Evan opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “I didn’t want to stay away,” He said quietly. “But I’ve been a mess too, and I didn’t want to put that on you. I just wanted you to rest and feel better and I thought… I thought if I was here maybe I’d make things worse.” He squeezed Connor’s hand again. “I want to be here.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Connor said, his eyes falling to the floor.

“I never stopped thinking about you… And I’m sorry I probably texted you a hundred times, so I’m sure I came across so needy and weird -”

“You texted me?” Connor said, his voice small.

“Yeah,” Evan said gently, his face heating up. “...Did you not get them?”

“I wasn’t really looking at my phone,” Connor admitted, looking embarrassed. “Mostly I was just. Asleep.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Evan said, shaking his head. “You don’t have to read them. It’s… don’t worry, I was just being -”

Connor reached for his phone as if Evan hadn’t said anything. His eyes went wide and Evan didn’t even want to think about how many messages he had sent, how desperate and probably straight up pathetic they probably began to sound after days and days of hearing nothing back. He just kept pouring his heart out, over and over again, because it made him feel like maybe Connor was out there reading these messages.

Connor’s eyes scanned his phone hungrily, and then he looked at Evan, his eyes teary and his lips parted. “Oh.”

“I love you,” Evan said. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry if that didn’t come across...”

Connor took Evan’s face in his hands and gently kissed him. “You love me?” He said so quietly.

“So much.”

“I love you too,” Connor said, kissing him again. “And I’m going to be a lot better -”

Evan flinched. He had said those words, so many times, he had been the person on the other side of this. He had made that promise, to himself, to his mom, to Jared and Sabrina, only to fail spectacularly because his standard for “a lot better” was not realistic. “No,” He said softly. “Don’t put that pressure on yourself. Don’t tell yourself you have to do this or I’ll go, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I hate that you’re in pain, but I’m in love with you, and I want to help you, but you… You have to give yourself time, okay? So please don’t tell me you’re gonna be better because of me. You’ll get there when you’re supposed to, and I’ll be there no matter what. Okay? There’s no rush. We have so much time.”

“But -”

Evan shook his head. “No buts. We’re here, Connor. You and I, we’re alive and… honestly I have no clue why that even is. But we’re alive. We’ve gotten through so much… So I think. The universe is mysterious and arbitrary and also probably kind of a dick, but we’re supposed to stick around. Stick together. We’ll get through this. As much time as it takes, we’ll get through it.”

Connor nodded. He looked away wearily. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Evan nodded. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. I know.”

“I… I hate that I made you so worried.”  
“I’d worry anyway.”

“But… I know you’re not okay either.” He took Evan’s hand, his thumb gently, so gently ghosting over the fresh scabs near his cuticles, across his bitten down nails. “And I hate that it’s my fault.”

“No, _I’m_ sorry. You don’t have to feel responsible for that, okay?” Evan sighed. “It’s not your fault. It’s not. I… I just got scared and when shit gets scary for me, I don’t always know how to handle it. But it’s not your fault that I got scared. I know you don’t want this.” He wrapped an arm around Connor then. “I’m really sorry about Friday. I know that… sucked. I probably just freaked you out more, huh?”

Connor shrugged.

“I’m really sorry. I was in a shitty headspace… I just wanted to see you. I was… I dunno, like, it freaked me out not having physically seen you for a while? I probably shouldn’t have come, I know I scared you which was the opposite of what I wanted.”

“I wanted to see you.” Connor looked down at their hands. “You were with Sabrina. On Thursday.”

Evan flinched. “I was.” He took a breath. “Nothing happened, Connor. I wouldn’t… I’d _never_ do that to you-”

“That’s not… I’m not worried about that,” Connor said softly. “I trust you. I know you… I just hate that it was her.”

Evan nodded. “I’m sorry about that. I’m really sorry.”

“I… When things aren’t good I want to be the person who helps,” Connor said. “I don’t…I don’t want it to be _her_.”

Evan frowned. “I know you want to be the person who helps. Because you have a huge heart and I love that about you… but I can’t come to you with every problem. And I couldn’t live with myself if I tried to make my reaction to you being unwell your burden, okay? I… She’s my friend. And I only went and spent time with her because I knew you were right and that I shouldn’t be alone.” He tried to give Connor a smile, and he knew it probably came out a bit lopsided and weird. “I didn’t want to make things worse… Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“The muffins are actually pretty good,” Connor said kind of bitterly. “Eating is still… kind of a thing. But they didn’t taste bad. And I sort of wanted them to suck.”

“Oh my god,” Evan laughed, pulling him in tightly. “I love you. I love you so much. It’s not fair that you still manage to be adorable when you feel this crappy.”

Connor gave him a look. “You think I’m adorable?”

“Yes,” Evan said. “Always.” Connor rolled his eyes. It was perhaps the most attitude he had shown in weeks and it filled Evan’s heart with warmth. He kissed Connor’s cheek again, and hugged him again, and told him again how much he loved him. “How are you feeling now?”

Connor frowned a bit. “Tired. Embarrassed. Kind of like I got hit by a bus?”

Evan nodded, understanding. “Headache? Sore neck?”

“Both, kind of,” Connor said. “I’m just kind of achey…”

“I could make tea?” Evan offered. “Get you some aspirin?”

“Okay.”

“Have you eaten yet?”

Connor shook his head.

“Can you eat something?”

He nodded. “I can try.”

“Maybe we ought to start with a muffin,” Evan said. “Spitefully eating one might make you feel better.”

Connor almost grinned. “Okay.”

He set Connor up on the sofa and went about making him some tea. Evan grabbed a glass of water and aspirin from the cabinet where Connor kept them, then grabbed a muffin for Connor and set it on a plate. He noticed Connor watching him a bit as he carried everything over to him,  “What?”

“You just carried all of that at once.”

Evan sort of felt his face heat up. “My first job in college was as a barista at a small coffee shop?”

“How did I not know that?”

“Same reason you don’t know I worked at Pottery Barn during my gap year,” Evan said, grinning. “I try not to mention it.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I guess for a long time I was really embarrassed that I had to, like, work my way through school?” Evan sat next to Connor on the sofa. “Like I didn’t want anyone to know I wasn’t coming from money or whatever. I know it’s kind of silly.”

Connor shrugged. “I get it.” He chewed a bite of the muffin. “I hate that this is good.”

“Sabrina’s a good baker. Sorry.”

“Ugh,” Connor commented, and it lacked his usual bite but Evan loved it anyway. They just sat for a while, Connor drinking a little water, a little tea, finishing half of his muffin.

“Do you want to just… chill?” Evan asked. “Normally I’d suggest a movie or something, but it’s kind of nice just being here.”

“Yeah,” Connor said, resting his head against Evan’s chest. Then he yawned, but looked embarrassed. “Fuck, I’m sorry…”

“Hey hey don’t,” Evan said. “You’ve had an exhausting couple of months. It makes sense that you’re tired.”

“I don’t want to waste our time together,” He mumbled.

Evan smiled slightly, then kissed Connor’s hair. “We have so much time. You’re not wasting it by taking care of yourself. If you need to sleep, then please sleep, okay? Hell, fall asleep on me, I don’t mind. You need to take care of yourself, and I want to help because I want you… I need you to be okay. It doesn’t have to be right this moment, but I need you to be okay.”

 

* * *

Monday rolls around and while Connor is still exhausted, he feels less overwhelmed. His mom spends the day just casually reading in the sunshine spot while he works, keeping an eye on him in a way that’s sort of embarrassing but comforting at the same time.

 

She doesn’t make a huge thing of it, so it’s not super weird, and thankfully Leslie and Maureen don’t act like it’s super weird either. In fact, they both seem to enjoy her company, Maureen in particular.

 

It’s mid-afternoon when Leslie’s friend Jax comes in for a chat, and even though Connor’s not exactly 100%, he can still tell that Jax would be a perfect fit for the store. He tells them he’ll get back to him later that week and talks it over with his mom and Evan that night when Evan stops by, armed with a fuckton of Indian food.

 

“You said something about a training manual?” Evan says, scooping up some tikka masala.

 

“I wrote one in July,” Connor explains, wincing as he thinks back to sleepless nights in the summer. “I was kind of… I wasn’t really sleeping but I wasn’t tired? I just had lots of weird nervous energy and… did stuff like hang up curtains and write training manuals.” He feels his face turn pink and looks down at his rice.

 

“A training manual will make the training a lot easier,” Cynthia offers as she helps herself to another piece of naan. “And didn’t you say that Leslie offered to do some of the training so you wouldn’t have to work any extra shifts?”

 

Connor nods. “Yeah. And Jax is happy to start doing a Friday this week if we wanted them to. It could…” He shrugs, and looks at Evan, who’s watching him intently and smiling encouragingly. “If I went down to four days a week, it could be good. It would give me an admin day. Like you suggested back in the summer.”

 

“You work a ten hour day,” Cynthia points out, frowning a little. “If you go down to four days, you still have a forty hour work week.”

 

“During training, I thought we’d have Jax in Thursday and Friday,” Connor says, nodding a little. “Which could give me a Thursday off as well if I needed it if Leslie’s happy to train.”

 

Evan and Connor’s mom exchange a look. It’s Evan who responds. “Thursdays and Fridays off for a couple of weeks could be good,” he says gently. “At least while you’re getting back on your feet.”

 

Connor knows he’s right. He nods, and when they finish eating, he calls Jax to offer them a position. They accept immediately.

 

When Gladys and Martha show up at the store later that week, Connor knows from the looks on their faces that they know he isn’t doing great. His first instinct is to apologize, to tell them how sorry he is to have let them down, but before he can say anything, Gladys pulls him into a tight hug.

 

She holds on for what feels like a long time.

 

“I’m sorry,” Connor begins, but before he can say anything else, Gladys is telling him not to say such nonsense and Martha is handing his mom a freezer bag.

 

“I’ve made you some food,” she says, her voice kind. “At the moment, it might all be a bit overwhelming so they’re nice and easy. Just meals that you can just pop in the microwave and heat up.”

 

Connor actually tears up at that, and Gladys just pats him on the cheek and tells him she believes in him, but that he has to be kinder to himself.

He’s going to try.

 

By the time Cynthia leaves the following Sunday morning, Connor’s feeling… less overwhelmed. More steady. Like he actually has a shot at making this work, like he can get through the day, the week, the month.

 

Praveed’s encouraging every time he sees him, and constantly reminds Connor that he’s got a lot of people in his corner, which couldn’t be more true. Zoe calls almost every day to check in, and so does his mom. Leslie and Maureen encourage Connor to have a longer break in the middle of the day. Once Jax starts, they pick things up so quickly that it feels like they’ve always been there. They’re incredibly understanding that Connor has had some health struggles and they’re just really cool.

 

It’s nice.

 

There seems to be a massive conspiracy to keep Connor fed. Martha drops in food at least once a week. Maureen shows up to work with Filipino sweets that are actually pretty delicious. And to Connor’s surprise, the girl with the blue hair drops in with a small box full of homemade chocolate chip cookies which apparently she’d baked for him because he’d seemed tired when she’d visited the store last. He barely has time to thank her before she darts out of the store like some kind of fairy, bestowing cookies upon exhausted bookstore owners.

 

And of course, there’s Evan.

 

Evan is there through it all - even when he isn’t always physically there, Connor still never feels alone. Evan texts Connor near constantly, orders food to be delivered to the bookstore to make sure Connor is eating, visits a lot and calls a lot and makes Connor feel like he isn’t alone.

 

Connor spends a lot of time feeling like he’s letting Evan down, like he’s disappointing him.

 

If he’d just been smarter about this earlier. If he’d just talked to his own therapist after what his dad said. If he hadn’t worked himself to the bone, if he hadn’t exhausted himself, if he hadn’t stopped taking his medication and going to therapy, if he hadn’t freaked out about his feelings and basically pushed Evan away…

 

Evan deserves better than this worn out shell Connor is right now.

 

But he stays. And he keeps staying. Keeps telling Connor that he loves him, keeps caring, keeps _staying._

 

Connor still feels like he’s barely getting by, like being a human being is taking every piece of effort he’s got, and he’s exhausted all the time and everything feels gray, but he’s trying.

 

He’s really fucking trying.

 

That counts for something. He’s sure of it.


	22. October (One Year and Eight Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan Hansen was not jealous of a cat, or so he told himself for the millionth time in a few days. He was not jealous of a cat.

It’s a Wednesday morning, and Connor’s just been to a local cafe to get a coffee and a muffin. He’s trying this whole thing where he has breakfast out of the house every now and then before work, just so he’s not getting himself into a state of near agoraphobia again. He decides to take a shortcut through an alleyway to get back to the bookstore after and almost trips over something.

 

It takes him a moment to realize that something is a cat.

 

A very small, very skinny cat, who isn’t really moving as fast as a cat should be moving. The cat is black with markings that are probably supposed to be white but look more gray, and it looks up at Connor and meows a little pitifully and then rubs against his leg a little.

 

Connor has no idea why he reaches down and picks the cat up, but the cat seems happy to curl up against him, seemingly taking comfort in the warmth of Connor’s jacket, and Connor can feel that this cat is way too thin and seems really tired and honestly, Connor can really fucking relate right now.

 

He takes the cat back toward the bookstore and about a block away, ends up running into Maureen, who’s also on her way to work. She looks at the cat curled up in Connor’s arms and her eyes widen.

 

“When did you get a cat?”

 

“I found it in an alleyway,” Connor explains. “It seems like it’s having a rough time, I figured maybe if it’s not too busy I’d take it to an animal rescue, make sure it’s okay and see If someone’s looking for it.”

 

The vet at the animal shelter concludes that this cat was mostly likely abandoned as a kitten. He’s about three months old, doesn’t have a microchip and hasn’t been neutered but is otherwise in pretty decent shape, despite being dirty and not particularly well fed.

 

“If I wanted to keep him, what would I need to do?” Connor finds himself asking.

 

It’s not even eleven by the time that Connor gets back to the store with the cat and a range of cat supplies. He sets up a litter box and a food bowl in the staff kitchen for the time being, and the cat digs into the bowl of cat food like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, which Connor suspects might actually be the case. Maureen joins him in the kitchen when the store is empty, looking a little surprised.

 

“So you’re keeping the cat?”

 

“I’m keeping the cat,” Connor says with a nod.

 

“What are you going to call him?”

 

“Something literary,” Connor says, considering.

 

“How about Richard for Richard III?” Maureen suggests, and Connor actually shudders.

 

“God, no.”

 

“Edgar for Edgar Allan Poe?”

 

Connor grins as it occurs to him. “Edgar Allan _Paw.”_

 

Maureen groans. “Oh my god.”

 

“It’s perfect,” Connor insists. He kneels down and pets the newly named Edgar. “What do you think, little guy? I think it’s great.”

 

Edgar Allan Paw stops eating for a moment and rubs his nose against Connor’s hand.

 

Connor grins.

 

Edgar Allan Paw spends the rest of the day either following Connor around the bookstore or cleaning himself in the sunshine spot. He seems much more energetic after having eaten something. After Maureen finishes her shift, Edgar rubs against Connor’s ankle and meows until Connor picks him up, then he climbs up onto Connor’s shoulder and makes himself at home.

 

Connor does a bit of admin work behind the counter as Edgar sits on his shoulder, and Connor kind of likes how warm the little guy is. He seems to like being up high, and looks around with interest. At about quarter to eight, the door opens and the bell rings and Edgar meows softly as Evan walks through the front door.

 

Evan approaches the counter and looks more than little taken aback. “Why is there a cat on your shoulder?”

 

“He likes to feel tall.”

 

“Connor,” Evan says, sounding a little bewildered. “Where did the cat come from?”

 

“An alleyway,” Connor explains. “I found him on my way back from getting coffee before work. The animal shelter thinks he was abandoned as a kitten. I’ve named him Edgar Allan Paw.”

 

“And you’re _keeping_ him?”

 

Edgar jumps down from Connor’s shoulder and onto the counter, moving toward Evan with interest. He meows for a moment and rubs his little face against Evan’s arm, which is the cutest fucking thing Connor has ever seen.

 

“Well, yeah,” says Connor, and Evan looks more than a little uncertain about this. “He can be a bookstore cat. I’m going to get him neutered when he’s put on a bit more weight.”

 

“Are you sure about this?” Evan says, his voice soft but concerned. “You’re kind of… things are a bit tough for you at the moment. Maybe having another thing to be responsible for isn’t the best move.”

 

Edgar Allan Paw moves back toward Connor, meows again and jumps back onto Connor, climbing up his shirt onto his shoulder again. Connor looks at the cat and smiles, and then turns back to Evan. “He’s a cool little guy,” he says after a moment. “I can tell he’s had a rough time. And maybe… maybe we can help each other out.”

 

Evan doesn’t look convinced, but leans in and kisses Connor, then pokes around the bookstore as they wait for closing time.

 

When it finally hits eight, Connor closes up the store and he and Evan head upstairs to his apartment, Edgar perched on Connor’s shoulder again. Connor heats up some leftover Chinese food from earlier in the week and Edgar takes the opportunity to jump down and investigate Evan. By the time the food is warm enough and Connor puts it on the kitchen table, Edgar is curled up on Evan’s lap, and while Evan still looks a little surprised, he doesn’t try to move him.

 

As Edgar explores the apartment after they eat, Evan takes the opportunity to look Connor up and down in this kind of assessing way that Connor’s gotten used over the past few weeks, like he’s trying to figure out how Connor’s doing just from looking at him. “Good day?” Evan asks, and Connor doesn’t hesitate to reply in the affirmative. “That’s good,” Evan says gently, and kisses him equally as gently, then tucking Connor’s hair behind his ear. “It seems like it was good for you.”

 

“Yeah,” Connor says. Tries to explain. “I, uh, I think I like that I can, you know, look after a tiny little creature. Probably stupid seeing as I can barely look after myself right now, but… I don’t know, at the moment we’re both just trying to do the basics, you know? So that’s… reassuring, in a way. I got Edgar some food and he perked up a ton, so maybe it’ll be the same for me eventually… ugh, that sounds dumb.”

 

“It’s not dumb,” Evan counters. Then he stops. “Wait, did you say that you named the cat Edgar Allan _Paw_?”

 

Connor can’t help it. He bursts out laughing at the utterly appalled expression on Evan’s face. “Come on,” he says after a moment. “I think it’s purr-fect.”

 

“Oh my god, Connor.”

 

Connor starts laughing again at Evan’s expression, and just has to kiss him, a bunch of times, over and over until Evan starts laughing as well.

 

Once they do the dishes, they cuddle up on the sofa for a while and watch TV. When Connor finds himself struggling to keep his eyes open, Evan kisses him and tells him to get some sleep, then heads home.

 

Connor sets up the litter box in the corner of his bedroom and brings Edgar into his room while he gets into his pajamas. When he finally gets into bed, Edgar snuggles up against him and purrs contentedly and it’s a little like the sound of Evan’s snoring, which makes Connor feel… safe.

 

He falls asleep easily and sleeps soundly through the night.

 

* * *

 

Evan Hansen was not jealous of a cat, or so he told himself for the millionth time in a few days. He was not jealous of a cat.

Connor kept sending him pictures during the day of Edgar Allan Paw doing various weird cat things, like curling up in the sunshine spot in the bookstore or squeezing into an empty tissue box (he was pretty small). And he texted Evan about the cat more often than he texted Evan about other things and _fuck_.  He was fucking jealous of a cat. Or maybe he wanted to somehow hack the cat to become a high tech security camera so he could check on Connor from his desk. Or maybe the cat just made him worried because Connor was struggling. Connor was struggling to sleep and feed himself and how the fuck was Connor supposed to take care of a kitten when eating was a task and Evan felt a little bit like he should protest, like he should put his foot down and say that Connor was not allowed to adopt a stray cat in the middle of a mental health crisis goddamnit.

But Connor did seem…  happier.

And the cat was pretty cute. For a cat. Evan wasn’t really a cat person.

Well.

More like he wasn’t a pet person. He’d never had a pet growing up. There had been a cat called Mittens for a little while when he was about six, a let’s-save-our-marriage pet but Evan was allergic and Mittens went to live on a farm (literally). Evan didn’t exactly understand the appeal of cats.

Evan had no fucking idea what one did with a cat. Connor seemed to get it though. He went out and bought it food and set up a litter box in his apartment and one in the bookstore so Edgar could go as he pleased, and a week after the kitten appeared, Zoe showed up to Connor’s apartment with a huge bag full of toys for Edgar, all strings and feathers and toy mice and (to Connor’s delight) a toy raven that was full of catnip. Edgar kept carrying it around in his mouth for at least an hour after he discovered it. And okay, that was Objectively Adorable. And sure, Evan had totally taken a picture and put it on facebook.

But then Connor said something about how the cat liked to sleep next to him and he was always purring it and reminded him of how Evan snored and Evan, who still had not quite managed to get over the fact that he did snore, was discombobulated and frustrated for the rest of the day because he was Fucking Jealous of A Cat.

“Maybe you feel as if you have to compete for Connor’s affection? And you feel you’ve only just earned it?” Marcia suggested at their next session.

“Or maybe I’m an asshole who doesn’t want Connor to have things that make him feel better,” Evan replied, irritated.

“Do you really think that’s true?” Marcia asked.

“I don’t know. I just. I feel weird about the cat and I don’t think we’re in a place where I get to feel weird about the cat.”

“I think you’re allowed to feel however you feel.”

“Yeah, but you always think that,” Evan said, rolling his eyes.

“It could be a misplaced feeling of jealousy, since Connor is devoting time to taking care of this cat but right now he cannot do the same for you?”

Evan felt his face heat up. “Don’t call me out like this, Marcia.”

He spent the next weekend at Connor’s. He spent most weekends at Connor’s honestly, mostly because he wanted to spend all of his time with Connor, but also so he could be sure that for two whole days, Connor slept and ate regularly. And two days was about what Evan was capable of handling without totally overdoing it and sending himself into a panicked, obsessive spiral where all he did when they were apart was stare at his phone and wait for bad news.

Since Connor still wasn’t quite back to his usual self, he was sleeping a lot. And Evan didn’t mind. He preferred it to the alternative at least. Connor without sleep scared the hell out of him, so he would much rather wait around for Connor to wake up again. He’d sometimes work from the kitchen while Connor napped. Sometimes he’d take care of some small household chores, like dishes or laundry, just so they weren’t on Connor’s plate. Sometimes, Evan would just borrow a book from one of Connor’s bookshelves and read for a bit. As long as Connor didn’t see him actively doing it, he was less likely to try to force himself awake to talk about the book.

He was considering doing just that when Edgar Allan Paw began to loudly meow outside of Connor’s bedroom door.

“Hey,” Evan said softly, then felt stupid for speaking to a cat. He pressed on anyway.“Don’t wake him up. He’s tired.”

“Meow,” said Edgar Allan Paw, because he was a cat. He wasn’t any quieter.

“Do you want in there?” Evan asked, and again, he was talking to a cat. Like. He shouldn’t expect an answer. “Okay, but we have to be quiet, alright?”

“Mrow,” said Edgar Allan Paw, still stubbornly a cat.

“No. _Quiet_. You have to be quiet.”

Edgar Allan Paw let out the smallest little meow, staring up at Evan with big wide kitty cat eyes.

“I mean it. Don’t wake him up.”

Evan very gently pushed the door open, just wide enough for the small kitten to slip inside. Edgar bounded over toward Connor’s bed, getting a running start and… totally missing the mattress, his little head hardly clearing the top. He rebounded fast, wiggling his little butt like he was going to pounce again, but he just didn’t have enough momentum to get up on the bed that way.

Evan sighed, letting himself into Connor’s bedroom and scooping the cat up gingerly. He put Edgar down softly on the bed, and Edgar started to purr immediately, walking toward Connor and then curling up beside him on the mattress.

Connor looked peaceful in his sleep. Also very cute, all cuddled up in bed with his new cat.

Evan caught himself yawning and realized, suddenly, that he could probably use some rest too. He didn’t usually sleep well at Connor’s. He figured part of it had to do with being stressed out and worried about Connor.

So he gingerly pulled back the covers and slid into bed beside Connor, turning onto his stomach and moving his head to face him. A moment later a sudden warm weight appeared just above Evan’s hip, and he almost laughed when he saw Edgar had curled up on Evan’s lower back. He wanted to shoo the cat away because he didn’t want to cuddle with a damn cat that he was jealous of, but then he realized that he was fighting a losing battle. Connor loved this cat, and Evan loved Connor so… Edgar stayed. And Evan drifted off to sleep.

A little while later, Evan opened his eyes to discover Connor was petting Edgar… who was still perched on Evan’s back.

“He likes you,” Connor said softly and he was grinning and Evan smiled. “You okay?”

“I was just sort of tired,” Evan said. “And Edgar here was meowing his little lungs out trying to get in here to snuggle with you.”

Connor grinned. “Cuddling with my two favorite guys.”

Evan rolled his eyes. He was not jealous of a cat. He refused to be jealous of a kitten. “I feel like I am offended at being only one of your favorites.”

“Are you jealous of my cat?” Connor asked, teasing.

“No,” Evan lied. He pulled Connor in and kissed him softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Connor said and he kissed Evan again, and Evan shifted slightly to wrap his arms around Connor and Edgar let out an irritated little meow and jumped off of Evan’s lower back and trotted out of the bedroom.

“Alone at last,” Evan said and he kissed Connor again and again and again, his fingers dancing up his sides, tickling his ribs until Connor was giggling and his cheeks were a bit flushed. “Did you sleep okay?” He asked Connor then, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Yeah. I did.”

“Any good dreams?”

“No dreams really,” Connor said. “But I’ll take it.”

“Good.” Evan kissed his cheek.

 

* * *

 

For the first time in what feels like literal months, Connor doesn’t wake up exhausted.

 

In fact, he feels pretty good.

 

Progress, he thinks, with no small measure of satisfaction.

 

It’s a Friday, which is now an admin day rather than a day where he has to open the store. As a result, he’s been able to wake up naturally instead of to his alarm, and honestly it’s kind of nice. It’s about 9am, which is a good time to wake up and will give him a decent amount of time to get things done before this evening.

 

He’s invited Evan over for dinner and he wants it to be nice.

 

Edgar Allen Paw takes off like a shot once Connor opens the door of his room to head to the bathroom. Once Connor’s out of the bathroom, he cleans Edgar’s litter box and fills up his food and water bowls, and as Edgar digs into his breakfast, Connor figures he should sort out his own.

 

Connor cooks some eggs, makes some coffee and takes his medication. He takes a moment to text Evan good morning and once he’s finished eating, he does the dishes and then opens up his laptop to do some work. Edgar jumps onto the table and curls up in a ball next to Connor’s laptop as he gets started on store administration.

 

He has to admit, going down to four days a week actually in store was a really good move, and even though he was initially a little freaked out at the idea of hiring another employee, it’s all worked out really well.

 

Jax is smart and polite and gets along well with the customers, especially kids and parents, and since they also work in a school, they actually know what kids are reading these days. Connor’s a big fan of YA literature, but children’s books haven’t really been something he’s known much about, so it’s been an eye-opening experience. Honestly, there are some really kickass children’s books out there. He’s been missing out.

 

Leslie, Maureen and Jax all get along very well, and are happy to cover for each other when needed, and have been happy to cover for Connor while he’s been focusing on his health. And despite everything, the store is still turning a profit. Connor’s not about to become a millionaire, but he’s more than keeping the lights on.

 

Which is… honestly a relief.

 

Among other things, Praveed and Connor have spent a decent amount of time talking through some of the things that Larry said back in May, the things that Connor wishes he hadn’t taken to heart.

 

“Dude, it’s hard when your parents say shit like that to you,” Praveed had said with no small measure of sympathy. “It totally is. But, like, you gotta look at the facts, and you gotta really examine statements like that and, like… basically take them to court, you know? You’ve got a ton of evidence that proves that the statement ‘you’re going to go bankrupt by the time you’re 30’ is blatantly untrue. You’ve got, like, tons of evidence.” He’d leaned in, clearly getting invested in his own metaphor. “Okay, so, like, at the end of the day, your dad is saying one thing and he’s the prosecution or whatever, but his case is pretty much trash. He doesn’t have enough evidence to back up what he’s saying, you know? And you’re the defence and you’ve got tons of evidence to back up your claim that he’s full of shit. The jury and the judge have to weigh up the evidence and it’s pretty clear who’s got the best case. You just need to remember to take the whole courtroom into consideration when you’re sorting things out in your head. But also, like, trust your verdict. If you look at the evidence then come to the conclusion, then stick with it. Court adjourned. Case dismissed. Whatever.” He’d thrown up his hands in the air. “I didn’t go to law school.”

 

Evan had genuinely laughed when Connor had told him about this conversation, and it had been so nice to see Evan laugh, to see genuine amusement rather than a brave face that disappeared when he thought Connor wasn’t looking.

 

Connor works on the finance side of things until midday, then grabs his canvas bags to go get some groceries. He heads down through the store, Edgar on his heels, and once they’re in the store itself, Edgar heads straight for the sunshine spot and makes himself comfortable on a cushion.

 

Jax is ringing up a customer and Leslie is tidying a display, so Connor stops to say hi for a bit.

 

“How’s the day been?” Connor asks Leslie.

 

“Great, actually,” says Leslie with a smile. She gestures to a nearby shelf, which has an empty space that looks new. “Jax managed to convince someone to buy that Roald Dahl box set that’s been sitting around since February. Remember how Gladys was so sure it was going to sell?”

 

“Whoa,” says Connor, impressed. “That was… honestly, I thought we’d never sell that, especially considering what we had to charge.” He looks over to see the customer Jax was serving leave, and Jax smiles brightly.

 

“I think the lady bought it for her grandchildren,” they say matter-of-factly. “Made a big thing about how her daughter doesn’t read to her kids enough and that they spent too much time on their iPads or whatever. I didn’t argue with her, she paid a lot of money.”

 

“I won’t be ordering it again,” Connor says with a roll of his eyes. “Nice work, Jax.”

 

He talks with his staff for a few more moments then heads outside toward the grocery store, feeling a little lighter. Making a big sale is always a good feeling, and it’s just contributing to his good mood from being well rested, and even though it’s starting to get colder, it’s a sunny day, and Connor thinks that this is the best he’s felt in a long time.

 

He’s really, really looking forward to seeing Evan tonight.

 

Gladys and Martha have visited a couple of times in the last few weeks, Martha bringing food every time. She’d given Connor some advice on her last visit.

 

“I’m going to let you in on my secret,” Martha had said with a smile. “You don’t need to spend hours cooking, a slow cooker does all the work for you. All you need to do is just pop a bunch of ingredients in a slow cooker on your lunch break and then by dinner you’ll have a meal. I’ve written down some recipes for you.”

 

Connor hasn’t had a chance to try one of Martha’s recipes yet, but he’s found one that looks pretty straightforward that he wants to attempt for tonight. While he’s at the grocery store, he picks up everything he’ll need to make a honey soy chicken recipe, as well as some basics like toilet paper, milk and eggs and some dairy-free ice cream for dessert. After a moment, he also picks up a packet of Oreos to put in the staff kitchen for the weekend.

 

When Connor gets back to his apartment, it’s just after 1. He’s not super hungry but he eats a banana and some yogurt, then starts preparing what he needs to put in the slow cooker for dinner, which doesn’t take too long at all. By mid-afternoon he’s starting to flag a little, which he’s not surprised by because he does seem to be getting more tired at the moment, so he lies down for a bit and ends up napping until about 4.

 

After his nap, he has a shower and takes some time with his appearance, putting on a shirt he knows Evan likes and a nice pair of jeans. While he knows Evan’s planning to spend the weekend at his apartment, he’s not sure what time he’ll be finishing his workday, so he flicks him a quick text.

 

**Hey, just wondering what time you’re finishing up tonight :)**

 

The reply comes quickly.

 

**No later than 6, I hope**

**But then I need to go home and get some stuff**

**So I should be at yours by 7**

**Should I pick up Thai?**

 

Connor smiles.

 

**I’ve got dinner covered, don’t worry**

**I can’t wait to see you**

**I love you**

 

It takes a little while for Evan to respond, which makes sense because Connor knows how busy he is, but when he finally gets a response it makes him grin from ear to ear.

 

**:) :) :)**

**I love you too**

**And I can’t wait to see you**

**Let me know if you need anything**

 

Connor sits in the living room and reads a book and listens to Tegan and Sara over his Bluetooth speakers. It still feels like he’s kind of wasting time a little bit, but Praveed had been insistent that he be sure to schedule in some time to just hang out and do something he likes for himself, something that doesn’t involve anyone else.

 

As it gets closer to 7, Connor puts on some rice and sets the living room table. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but he wants to do something special, so he’d Googled romantic dinner ideas and waded through a bunch of terrible heterosexual garbage until he found some things he didn’t completely hate.

 

He’d even found candles, and for some reason he owns candle holders thanks to his mother’s enthusiasm, so he’s got those out on the table. It’s already dark out, so Connor lights the candles and turns off the lights, and decides that he likes the way it all looks by candlelight. It bathes the whole kitchen in a warm orange glow and Connor can imagine how it’ll make Evan’s hair glow, make his eyes even warmer, and…

 

Connor loves him so much. He loves him so fucking much and it took him far too long to figure out, and he was an idiot who nearly ruined everything, but Evan fought for them and has been there throughout this whole process of getting his shit together, has been supportive and amazing and proactive about his own mental health and leading by example and has just… come so far since they met again as adults and died and died and died, and Connor’s not perfect, he’s not even back to where he was before his mental health took a nosedive but he’s a hell of a lot closer.

 

He can hear a key in the lock and knows that it’s Evan, letting himself in, because he’d given Evan a set of keys of his own a few weeks ago, and then Evan’s standing in the doorway with his backpack in a nice sweater and jeans and looking at the candlelit room in genuine astonishment.

 

“I cooked,” Connor says, a little awkwardly. “The, uh, the rice is like ten minutes away, but I made a honey soy chicken thing in the slow cooker, and there’s that, like, coconut milk mint chocolate chip ice cream you like in the freezer, and I just wanted to… do something nice for you.”

 

“You didn’t have to do anything,” Evan says, but he’s grinning so, so wide, and he looks so happy and he comes over and kisses Connor gently and Connor holds onto him for a long time.

 

“I wanted to thank you properly,” he says, trying not to look too embarrassed. “I… I love you, and I know I’m not, like, a poster child for positive mental health, but I’m doing a lot better and I wanted to… I Googled how to do a romantic dinner date, so if this is weird or cheesy or wrong, then blame the internet.”

 

Evan grins even more. “You are such a dork, I love you so much.”

 

* * *

 

Connor made him dinner.

Which was, wow, adorable? And really awesome? Like, he made dinner because he wanted to do something nice for Evan? And he googled it because he was the sort of person who googled that kind of thing, he was a huge dork and Evan so in love with him that he didn’t have words? That was great. That was so great. Evan should be over the moon.

But he was mostly just relieved because if Connor could shop and cook and set a table he was doing alright today, he had more energy today, and if he had more energy, then maybe he was really feeling better. And Evan was just relieved. Connor deserved more good days. Evan was relieved to see this was one of them. Relieved. Like he had been holding his breath for weeks and he finally felt safe enough to breathe again.

Evan pulled Connor in for one more kiss before reluctantly letting him actually tend to the rice and stowing his bag in Connor’s room. He returned to the kitchen, watching Connor at the stove and smiling a little more because Connor was smiling and he sometimes wrinkled his nose a bit when he was concentrating and he looked really good today, his skin had lost a lot of the dullness and pallor it had through most of September.

And also he looked really good. Not just healthy, but _good_. Connor was wearing this shirt Evan liked because it fit him well, like really well, like it was borderline dirty how well it fit him, and Connor was wearing some nice jeans that showed off his looooooong legs and his hair was down and Evan bet if he touched it, it would be super soft and would also probably smell really good.

Connor caught him looking after a minute or two, and Evan felt himself flush a little because Connor shot him this sexy fucking grin and he was definitely giving Evan bedroom eyes and if this was six months ago, Evan would just let the rice burn because he would have been dragging Connor bodily into his bedroom (but only if he wasn’t blowing Connor right there in the kitchen).

But it was not six months ago and Evan felt something in his stomach flip because they had not had sex since they decided… whatever it was that they decided. They decided that they loved each other but they never circled back to set up terms and sometimes Evan would catch himself getting distracted mid-sentence because he didn’t know what to call Connor now. Friend was incomplete, but boyfriend seemed weird because they hadn’t talked about it and… Regardless of what he and Connor were to each other, since they had decided it would look different than fuck buddies or just friends or whatever, they had not had sex. Because sex was just off the table. Because Connor had been struggling and exhausted all the time and Evan was not an asshole who would demand sex from someone who was in obvious mental distress. And honestly, Evan had struggled a lot too, so he wasn’t even, like, thinking about sex. He was just worried about Connor.

But Connor seemed to being doing better, to be improving, and it wasn’t that Evan had suddenly misplaced his sex drive, it was there, it was just competing with this very loud and insistent voice in his head that he would fuck this up if he fucked Connor. That somehow it would undo the togetherness or set Connor back in his recovery and honest to god anxiety was just the worst boner killer so Connor giving him “fuck me” eyes while he finished putting together dinner mostly just gave Evan a stomachache. Because there was nothing fucking sexy about his anxiety running uncaged through Evan’s brain telling him how likely it was that he would fuck this all up.

“Uh,” Evan said stupidly, eventually, because had just been standing there ogling Connor like some kind of teenager, not saying anything and Connor’s cheeks had turned a bit pink and when they had sex in the past, Connor’s chest would flush the same color…

“Dinner’s ready,” Connor said, smiling, and Evan nodded because yes, right, food was a thing he could handle, and there were fucking candles and Damn.

Connor had made him dinner and that was super fucking romantic and he had done it on purpose. That was… wow.

Evan felt so damn lucky.

Even more so once he actually tried the food because it was really very good. “I’m… wow. This is really good. But I’m not like, saying that in like a, I thought you were bad at cooking way just that it’s… really good and yeah.”

Connor’s smile wilted a little. “Am I… Did I do something weird already or -?”

“No!” Evan said quickly. “I just. Am. Me.” He tried to smile. “It was supposed to be a compliment but then it sounded rude once I said it out loud so I tried to fix it and I… made it weird. So.” He stopped. Cleared his throat. Tried again. “Connor this is really amazing. Thank you so much for cooking. You’re really good at it.”

Connor smiled at him brightly. “You’re welcome.”

Evan managed to keep his foot out of his mouth for the rest of dinner. He wished he wasn’t such an anxious wreck through it but his brain seemed to have caught on that this was like a ROMANTIC dinner, like a DATE NIGHT and remembered that he was bad at that and frankly, if he had known this was going to happen he would have taken something before coming over.

He took a deep breath and straightened out his shoulders and smiled at Connor because Connor was wonderful and he looked really great tonight and he actually loved Evan and that was something. It didn’t take the edge of the anxiety away, but it did help to dull it a bit.

“Tell me about your day?” Evan asked and Connor smiled at him, like he had stuff he wanted to share and Evan was excited to listen.

“I did a bit of admin work this morning. Shopped. Jax convinced someone to buy that Roald Dahl box set that’s been collecting dust for ages?”

“Oh yeah?” Evan said. “They seemed to have a real knack for sales.”

“Or a way with old ladies,” Connor said, smiling. “They sold it to a grandma who hates iPads.”

Evan genuinely smiled at that. “My mom asked me if it was okay to take pictures on her iPad at my graduation from law school and I had to have a very real talk with her about how iPad pictures are the new fanny pack.”

“Oh no,” Connor said, and his eyes sparkled with amusement and his skin looked warm and glowing with the candles he had lit and Evan got lost looking at his face for a second because he did that sometimes (all the time). “What did she say?”  
“Sorry?”

“Your mom. About the fanny pack iPad?”

“Oh,” Evan said, his face heating up a little. “Just that she was going to show up with both if I didn’t let her live her life.”

“Did she?”

Evan shook his head. “No, she just used her phone. All for some very lousy, distant pictures of me getting a hood put over my head.”

“What does one wear when they graduate from the NYU School of Law?” Connor asked, smiling hard at him. “I don’t believe I’ve seen pictures.”

“That’s because you’re not on facebook,” Evan said. “I didn’t post any on instagram because it felt sort of… braggy. You wear a big goofy black and purple gown. And a tam? Like the floppy caps they give doctoral students? Which, I dunno, is maybe unfair since PhD students usually have to do more schooling than law students, but whatever, I wore the floppy hat. And then they put the hood on you when you get your diploma.”

“I bet you looked cute.”

“I didn’t,” Evan said, a little dismissive, because he had looked like a hot damn mess at his law school graduation. His dad had originally planned to come and then he bailed at the last minute and Evan had wasted all of this time and energy on getting his dad a fucking ticket and ended up giving it away to a classmate who had a big family so it was just his mom all alone in the crowd and Evan had been sick with anxiety about the whole walking-across-the-stage thing, convinced he was going to trip or fall or fuck up somehow.   “I’d just gotten an awful haircut by accident and the hat made it worse.” The haircut was really bad. Everyone knew it. Even his mom couldn’t help but suggest he add some product to it so it looked less… dorky. In the few pictures he had, it was pale and sort of shiny with sweat and his smile was fake, like beyond fake. He only agreed to having his mom post them on facebook because he knew she was mostly proud about the whole big goofy purple gown and floppy tam.

“You suck at taking compliments,” Connor said.

“Huh. Never heard that before.”

Connor insisted on clearing away the dishes after dinner and Evan offered to wash them but Connor said he could handle it and Evan worried he was going to overdo it so he dried the dishes that Connor washed and put them away.

It was nice, just, being together.

They sat on the sofa next to one another, thighs touching, and they had that mint ice cream that Evan actually liked (though he maintained that no coconut milk ice cream could ever actually compete with the real thing) and then Connor smiled at him for, like, a full minute, this real, genuine, delicious smile that made Evan’s heart do backflips and made him want to kiss Connor until he forgot about things that weren’t kissing Connor.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” Connor asked casually, setting his bowl and spoon down on the coffee table beside Evan’s.

 _“Or something?”_ Evan knew what “or something” meant. He had or something-ed Connor many times in the past and. _Fuck_.

“We could go in my room?” Connor went on, his voice deceptively light but his eyes dark and he was clearly eyeing Evan and Evan feared he might actually pass out.

“Uh.” Evan swallowed hard. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, a drumbeat drowning out everything else and Connor leaned over and kissed him and his lips were still cold from the ice cream and he tasted like mint and like Connor and then his hands were on Evan’s chest and he pulled away to kiss Evan’s neck and.

“Can we stop?” Evan asked quietly.

Connor pulled back, his eyes concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” Evan said, trying to smile but that was wrong that was a lie, he was lying. “No, I mean. I’m sorry.”

Connor pulled away slightly. “What’s going on? Did I-?”

“No!” Evan basically shouted and then flinched because he was fucking this up so badly, so damn badly. “You didn’t do anything. I… This is. Shit.” He rubbed a hand over his face trying to stop the part of his brain that was trying to steamroll everything with a constant parade of _You fucked up! You fucked up! You fucked up!_

Connor had moved away a little more, and he took Evan’s hand in his and Evan really hoped he didn’t look at them too closely because then he might notice that Evan had chewed his cuticles to bleeding a few times, he might notice that Evan’s hands were cold and clammy because Evan was a nervous wreck.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Connor said after a moment, and he was frowning, he was frowning and Evan had made him frown. He gave Evan a slight smile and tapped his finger against Evan’s head. “What’s going on in there?”

Evan sucked in a deep breath. “I love you so much,” He said because he didn’t want this to come across like he didn’t. “I love you. But I… I don’t think I’m ready to uh. To have sex again.”

“Oh,” Connor said.

“It’s not… I’m kind of. That’s a lie. I’m _really_ nervous. Like, too nervous. Like having a panic attack or start hyperventilating nervous. About it. Because it, _we’re…_ different now and it will be different and it’ll actually mean something and that’s probably a good thing, it’s probably a very good thing but I’m. Nervous. Because I want it to be, like, okay? And- and I’m not ready yet and I’m really sorry but I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Connor said and his voice was still soft and warm and he squeezed Evan’s hand. “We don’t have to have sex right now.”

“Okay.”

“We don’t have to have sex at all, honestly. I love you. I just want to, like, see you and spend time with you and whatever. If we never have sex again but I get you, then it’s okay.”

Evan sort of laughed awkwardly. “Who said anything about never again? Fuck that, that’s _not_ what I’m saying. We’ll have sex. Just. Not tonight?”

“Okay,” Connor said. “Can I kiss you again? Because I really like kissing you, and I would like to get to keep kissing you.”

“Okay,” Evan said with a smile.

 

* * *

 

Connor’s done a lot of kissing in his life. He’s done a lot of kissing Evan over the past year and a half. But he hasn’t done a lot of kissing that’s just… kissing. Kissing that’s not about to turn into more than kissing.

 

He really, really likes it, he’s decided.

 

Basically, he’s a huge fan of any kind of kissing as long as it’s with Evan, but kissing for the sake of kissing is kind of awesome. It’s soft and warm and unhurried and he just… really likes it.

 

He really, really likes kissing Evan.

 

He loves him so fucking much.

 

They break apart for air and Evan smiles at him and Connor just loves him so much. “You good?” Connor asks.

 

“Yeah,” says Evan and his smile widens and then he leans in and kisses Connor again, with a little more force this time, and Connor pulls Evan just a little closer to him, and Evan tastes like mint and he’s amazing, he’s so amazing and Connor doesn’t deserve this, he-

 

 _Nope,_ he tells himself. He’s not letting himself go down that thought path, not tonight, because today has been great and he’s not letting his stupid brain ruin it for him.

 

The next time they break apart, Evan runs his hand through Connor’s hair and smiles to himself and then kisses Connor softly on the cheek. “How about a movie?” he suggests, and Connor nods because that actually sounds like a great idea.

 

“Is it okay if we watch something in bed?” Connor finds himself asking, because he can feel his energy levels starting to drop quickly, and it’s annoying as hell but he’s promised himself to be sensible about it, to know his limits, and it’s probably just as well they didn’t end up having sex, because it might have been a bit much.

 

Even though he really, really enjoys having sex with Evan because Evan is incredible in bed, Connor gets why Evan might be nervous about it, and honestly, as much as he wants it, he might not quite be there yet, either.

 

Evan nods in agreement, and Connor picks up the dishes from their ice cream and puts them in the sink. Evan goes to get changed in the bathroom and Connor gets changed into his pajamas, then grabs his laptop from the kitchen table and brings it back into his room and by the time he’s got it, Evan’s back and they both climb into bed, adjusting the pillows so they can sit.

 

It’s really nice, having Evan here.

 

Evan’s been at Connor’s every weekend since they started talking again, since Evan told Connor he loved him, and Connor doesn’t think he’ll ever get sick of him. Evan had spent the entire week right afterward at Connor’s, when Connor was a complete and utter wreck of a human being, and had patiently made sure Connor was eating and sleeping and getting outside and had just… been there.

 

He’d been there, and it means everything.

 

Evan turns to Connor and smiles warmly. “Dinner was really amazing,” he says softly. “Thank you so much for doing that, it was amazing. You’re amazing.”

 

Connor feels his cheeks turning pink. “You’re amazing,” he counters. “You’ve just… you stuck around and made sure I was okay and looked after me after everything and I just… I can’t thank you enough, I really can’t. I love you so fucking much.”

 

“I love you, too,” says Evan, and he leans in and kisses Connor again, and they kiss for a few moments and it’s just…

 

Connor really fucking loves him.

 

“Movie suggestions?” Connor says, opening his laptop and pulling up Netflix.

 

“Maybe a TV show?” Evan suggests, and he’s looking at Connor with slight concern. “Something light, maybe. You look a little tired.”

 

“I am, a little,” Connor confesses, feeling guilty for a moment but trying to brush that aside, because he doesn’t need to feel guilty about his body needing to recover. “But it’s been a really good day, and you’re here, and I love you.”

 

Connor’s never really been someone who sleeps in a lot, but the last month he’s honestly just been exhausted all the time. There have been plenty of nights like this where he and Evan would be in bed watching TV or something and Connor would just… fall asleep. He’d wake up to find Evan doing some work, and feel guilty about it for a while, but Evan would assure him that it was fine, that even if all Connor did was sleep, Evan would still want to be there.

 

Connor just really, really fucking loves him.

 

“So I was thinking,” says Evan, and his voice is this deliberate kind of casual that makes Connor instantly realize that this is something important. “What do I call you?”

 

“Anything but bae,” Connor replies instantly.

 

Evan laughs, then looks at Connor intently. “I’m serious,” he says. “We didn’t really talk about it. You’re still my best friend and the most important person in my life, but you’re not just my friend. We’re not just friends, we’re… can I call you my boyfriend, or is that not a term you like?”

 

Connor feels something warm blossom inside his chest. “You can call me your boyfriend,” Connor says with a smile. “You can… honestly, you can call me anything you like. As long as you call me yours.” He takes Evan’s hand and squeezes it gently. “Because I am yours. You are… I think I’ve been yours for a long time.”

 

Evan squeezes his hand back and he takes a couple of breaths and looks overwhelmed and Connor’s about to apologize when he speaks. “I’m yours as well,” he says, offering Connor a smile. “And you can call me your boyfriend if you want, or anything else.”

 

“Boyfriend works,” says Connor with a smile, and he leans in and kisses Evan again. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, too,” Evan says. “I… I wish I’d told you sooner.”

 

“It took me a while to figure it out,” Connor admits. “I just… I didn’t know until July, but when I knew I also knew that I’d… I’d loved you for longer than I’d realized.”

 

“What made you realize?” Evan asks, sounding curious.

 

Connor laughs a little. “When we had drinks with Gladys and Martha. The way they looked at each other felt… familiar, and I…” He clears his throat, suddenly embarrassed. “I hadn’t… I didn’t know. What it was supposed to feel like, I… I’ve never felt the way I feel about you about anybody else.” He blinks a few times. “I know that’s weird. I’m sorry if that’s… weird.”

 

“It’s not weird,” Evan says softly. “It’s… I get it.” He smiles. “I figured it out that night we had drinks with Sabrina and Graham,” he admits, his cheeks going pink. “Last fall? When you stayed over and you held my hand and I… I knew then, and I’m sorry I took so long to tell you.”

 

Connor thinks back. “That was a year ago,” he says, a little stunned. “You… I didn’t know, I’m sorry I didn’t know, I-”

 

“We got there,” Evan interrupts, his voice gentle but firm. “We got there, and maybe we took the long way but we got there, and we’re here now, and I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

Evan kisses him again, then puts on a comedy show from Connor’s watch list, and Connor rests his head on Evan’s shoulder for a while and before he knows it, he’s starting to feel himself drifting. He tries to fight it but his body’s clearly decided that it’s time to shut down, and Evan is warm and safe and _here,_ and Connor loves him so much, and he falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

Evan called his mom most Thursdays. Often after therapy, though he had been moving those appointments around lately to make sure he was keeping on top of his own mental health while Connor was still getting back on his feet.

As it currently was, Evan made sure to take Thursday nights and do things for himself, because he spent more weekends at Connor’s and he still needed to do things like pick up his dry cleaning and do laundry and try to be a person who actually utilized alone time appropriately. He wasn’t super great at it, but he knew he needed to do it so Evan practiced.

He needed to get better at it. He’d skipped out on both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur for the second year in a row… this year he just spent both days with Connor. He figured he would rather begin the new year with the person he loved than in a synagogue mostly full of strangers. When Connor had realized (it took him a few weeks to realize, because he was going over the books for September and saw the date) he had been upset. He’d apologized profusely, carrying on about how he owed Evan because Evan had spent Christmas with him last year which was genuinely the silliest thing Evan had ever heard. He didn’t want Connor to feel guilty or bad about it… he had needed rest and Evan needed to see him healing.

“I don’t want you skipping out on stuff that’s important to you because you’re worried about me,” Connor had said stubbornly, and Evan had to admit he did have a point.

So. Thursdays he tried to build in time for self-care and downtime and sometimes he’d escort Mr. Abrahamson to the community center and find himself roped into a few rounds of Mah-Jongg. Evan was actually pretty good, even though he’d only ever played with his grandma before, and Mr. Abrahamson told him he should come around more often. On the walks to and from the center, Mr. Abrahamson would teach Evan new words in Yiddish and Evan would ask for his input on new clients and it was probably kind of weird to spend so much time with an old man in his building, but Evan liked it. He swore to Mr. Abrahamson that one of these days he would bring “that boyfriend of his” over for Shabbat.

And around eight o’clock, once his dry cleaning was picked up and his other clothes were in the wash, Evan called his mom. She picked up on the first ring, saying, “Hey you,” and explaining she had literally just been thinking about calling him.

Evan smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I was curious if your dad talked to you yet.”

Evan sighed. “No. And I haven’t been on facebook at all today. Did they have the baby then?”

“Yeah. Natalie. She was a little bit early but doing well. He called me to let me know earlier”

“I guess… that’s good,” Evan said, shrugging. “I haven’t heard from him. I still think it’s sort of weird that he calls you about stuff like this.”

“It’s not like he has a lot of other family,” His mom said. “I figured he hadn’t called you yet,” She went on, and Evan could practically hear her smiling. “When Amelia was born you sent me no less than fourteen texts about how you thought it was very weird that your dad kept calling you ‘big brother’ when you were already twenty.”

“I maintain it is weird,” Evan said. “That’s what you call a little kid, you know? Technically speaking, his other two kids could be, like, _my_ kids age wise.”

“I know.”

“It’s so weird.”

“Yes it is.”

“How’s everything with you?” Evan asked her.

“Honestly very good. Made better by the fact that I am not someone who is about to embark on a new adventure in changing diapers.”

Evan laughed.

“Also I went out with that group of us from work again the other night? Two dollar tacos and tequila.”

“Sounds like fun,” Evan said with a smile.

“Yeah until I had to be driven home by Josh in accounting.”

“Isn’t Josh the cute one?” Evan asked, hsi voice teasing.

“Yeah, cute and concerningly close in age to my adult son.”

Evan laughed. “I thought you said he was like forty.”

“Too young for me.”

“Mom,” Evan said, giggling. “You’re acting like he’s a teenager or something.”

“He might as well be. He was twelve when you were born!”

“Yeah, and you were nineteen,” Evan pointed out.

“I could have been his babysitter.”

“How many more excuses do you have?” Evan asked, still laughing. “Just so we’re keeping track.”

“We work together,” His mom said, sighing. “That’s my last one.”

“So? You’re in different departments. I think you should ask him out.”

“Uh-huh,” His mom didn’t sound convinced. “Let’s make a deal: I’ll ask out Josh when you ask Connor out, sound fair?”

“Well… I uh. That’s actually what I was calling about,” Evan said awkwardly. “I know I told you we were talking again.”

“You did,” His mom said. “You said he wasn’t doing so great.”

“He wasn’t.”

“How is he now?”

“Better. It’s kind of a slow process.”

“I’m glad. I talked to his mom right before she flew out to visit, and she was so worried about him.”

“Yeah… it was good that she came,” Evan said. “I think it helped a lot.”

“And how are you? I know you said it was… pretty hard for you, trying to be there for him on top of everything.”

Evan closed his eyes for a moment, the same sharp reminder of just how tough things had been going through him. “Yeah. I mean. I’m okay. I’ve been… seeing a lot of my therapist, which is helping?”

“I’m so glad it’s helping,” His mom said. “I… You kind of scared me for a while there.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” His mom said softly. “You know I’m always here if you need me.”

“I do.”

“Good. I know you don’t ever want to worry me -”

“I don’t.”

“Well tough shit, you’re my kid and I’ll worry as much as I damn well please,” His mom said and Evan felt a smile tugging at his lips. “So you call me if you need me, okay? Even if you just need to talk and it’s four in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

“So, sorry honey, did you call to say Connor’s doing better?”

“Well. No. But… I didn’t want to say anything until I had a better idea of what was going on because things were pretty rocky at first uh. Yeah. We’re um. Together now. Connor’s my boyfriend?”

“Oh sweetheart,” His mom sounded happy. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” Evan said quietly. “It is.”

“When did that happen?”

“Last month but then Connor wasn’t doing well so… Yeah. I didn’t want to say something and, like, jinx it you know?”

“Yeah. I understand.” She sighed. “I’m glad you have him, sweetheart. I really am.”

“So am I.”

“I don’t want to gloat and say I told you so…”

“You’re allowed. We were… idiots.”

“Just a bit,” His mom said fondly, laughing a bit. “I’m glad you’ve figured things out now.”

“So am I,” Evan said. “I. I just really love him.”

“Good. That’s so good. I’m really glad sweetheart.” She sighed. “I really do like him. I think you two are a good fit for each other.”

“Thanks mom.”

“But I wouldn’t be your mother if I didn’t… make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay,” Evan said immediately.

“I just mean. He’s important to you but I know he’s still… going through a tough time and I don’t want you to drop everything you’ve been working hard for to make sure he’s okay, you know?”

“I do,” Evan said. “I really… I do. I promise. I’m taking this really seriously because… I don’t want to lose him or lose myself...” He had said more than he meant to. “I just. I’m doing my best to be careful.”

“I… I’m so proud of you, honey,” His mom said and Evan felt himself sort of tearing up a little bit. “You’ve… you’ve come a really long way. And… I love you so much baby. I hope you know that. I’m so proud of you and who you’ve become and… I love you. You know that, right?”

“I do. I know. Thank you.”

“Does this mean when I come for Thanksgiving I get to meet your boyfriend?” His mom asked, and Evan could hear the way she was working hard not laugh.

“You’ve already _met_ my boyfriend. Several times. Once when he didn’t have pants on!”

“I’ve met Connor but _not_ when he was your boyfriend,” She said and she sounded absolutely delighted and it was so silly and adorable that Evan just wanted to hug her. “Do you think he’ll get nervous about seeing me again? That he’ll do something silly to try to impress me? I hope he does, that would be so stinking cute.”

“Please don’t torture him,” Evan said, smiling.

“Only the teensiest bit,” She said. “Just so he knows I mean business.”

“You’re so weird.”

“I know. You love it.”

“I do.”

 

* * *

 

Connor’s not expecting his sister to show up at his apartment on her lunch break on Friday, but he’s definitely not complaining, especially since she’s brought some really delicious deli sandwiches with her. The minute she’s inside the apartment, she immediately starts looking around for Edgar.

 

“Does he like the toys I got him?” she asks as Edgar trots up to her and rubs his little face against her hand.

 

“He does,” Connor says, pulling some orange juice out of the fridge and pouring them both a glass. “Especially the raven.”

 

“Yeah, well, he would.”

 

Zoe picks Edgar up and cuddles him for a bit, and he seems to enjoy it for a moment but then meows loudly, jumps out of Zoe’s embrace, leaps across the table and climbs up Connor’s arm to stand on his shoulder, which still seems to be his favorite place to be. Zoe looks at them and bursts out laughing.

 

“I honestly don’t know why he’s so into being on my shoulder,” Connor confesses as Zoe passes him a sandwich. “I genuinely don’t. But he’ll just hang out here for hours sometimes, it’s so weird.”

 

“Trust you to end up with a weird cat,” says Zoe, unwrapping her sandwich and grinning. She takes a bite, then smiles at Connor fondly. “You look a whole lot better, Connor.”

 

“I’m feeling better,” he admits. “Still tired, but… I guess that makes sense. I’m seeing Praveed twice a week, and it’s helping.”

 

Zoe nods. She bites her lip, looks down at her sandwich, then looks back at Connor. “When Evan first called me,” she begins, her tone cautious, “he mentioned that Dad said something about you going bankrupt. What was that all about?”

 

Connor tenses. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about that,” he says quietly. “But when Dad was in town in May, we had a drink and he said some shit.”

 

“Of course he did,” Zoe says, sounding disgusted. “I don’t get why he’s so opposed to you becoming a business owner? Sure, he’d have rather you ended up a lawyer or a surgeon or some shit, but it’s not like owning and operating your own business is any less impressive.” She smiles a little. “Hell, when I tell people that my brother owns and manages a bookstore and also helped found an indie publishing company, they’re always super impressed.”

 

“You tell people about me?” Connor asks, a little taken aback.

 

“Sure,” says Zoe, shrugging a little before taking another bite of her sandwich. When she’s finished the bite, she beams at Connor. “I’m proud of you. I like bragging about you, deal with it.”

 

“If anyone should be bragging, it should be me,” Connor says firmly.

 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

 

Connor rolls his eyes right back at her. “I’m sorry, which one of us is Dr. Murphy?”

 

Zoe’s face breaks into a giant grin. “That would be me.”

 

“Damn right it is.”

 

When they finish their sandwiches, Zoe apologetically admits she has to go to get back to her office before her next client arrives. She gives him a hug that lasts longer than usual. “I miss our lunches,” she admits quietly.

 

“I’m sorry I haven’t-”

 

“No need to apologize,” Zoe interrupts firmly. “You’ve been looking after yourself, and that’s important.”

 

“Why don’t you come around for dinner tonight?” Connor suggests, the thought occurring to him. “Martha gave me this great recipe for honey soy chicken.”

 

Zoe looks genuinely surprised. “Since when did you cook?”

 

“Since Martha showed me how awesome slow cookers are,” Connor says. “You just, like, throw stuff in and turn it on and a few hours later there’s magically food, it’s super easy.”

 

“Okay then,” Zoe says, nodding, still looking a little shocked. “I have clients until six, but I could come after that?”

 

“Sounds good,” Connor agrees. “Evan’s probably going to be here around seven, so that works.”

 

Zoe grins widely. “You’re letting me have dinner with you and your boyfriend? I’m honored.”

 

Connor rolls his eyes. “Zo, you know Evan. You have for a while now.”

 

“I know,” Zoe replies, still smiling. “But he’s your boyfriend now. I just… I like that. I like seeing you guys together. Properly together. And now that you’re doing better, it’s just… I really fucking love seeing you happy, Connor.”

 

Connor can’t help but smile. “Yeah,” he confesses. “I like being happy.”

 

Now that he’s got actual Dinner Plans, Connor heads out to get groceries to cook something nice. He’d like to impress his sister, show her that yes, things were going better and yes, he was starting to approach a functional human being these days. He texts Evan to let him know Zoe’s joining them and ends up picking up wine, more dairy-free ice cream and the ingredients to make the honey soy chicken he made Evan last weekend because he knows it’ll work and his boyfriend said it was really good.

 

His _boyfriend._

 

Still takes a bit of getting used to, but it makes Connor smile every time he thinks it or says it.

 

Once he’s finished at the grocery store, he heads back to The Little Book Nook to find Leslie talking to a customer and Jax restocking the foreign language section, which seems to have a big gap in it now. Connor goes over to Jax to catch up.

 

“You’ve been working your sales magic, I see.”

 

Jax turns a little pink. “I think I just get nice customers,” they say, a little sheepishly. “There was this young mom who’s trying to expose her son to more Spanish writing? She’s not fluent but her partner is and she’s trying to improve her Spanish so their son gets lots of exposure to the language.”

 

“Awesome,” says Connor with a smile. He looks around the display, seeing that the Spanish section is… pretty small, all things considered. “I should talk to Caroline about getting more kid-friendly Spanish books. Any recommendations?”

 

Jax’s eyes light up and they say they’ll write some down for him.

 

Connor heads upstairs to start putting together the food for the slow cooker. Once it’s all ready, he sets about tidying the apartment a little, then has a nap before Zoe and Evan arrive.

 

Evan’s there just after six, which is a bit of a surprise. He’s usually not there so early. He’s still in a nice suit but he’s got a backpack with him, which Connor knows means he’s planning to stay the night, which makes him feel warm all over. Having Evan there makes him feel safe.

 

The first thing Evan does is walk right over to Connor in the kitchen where he’s cooking rice and kiss him, soft and slow and nice, and Connor lets himself sink into it for a while, to enjoy Evan’s arms around his waist and his lips on his.

 

“Hi,” Evan says, his eyes bright and his voice warm.

 

“Hi,” Connor replies, and he’s sure he’s smiling like an idiot. “You’re early.”

 

Evan shrugs and smiles. “Big win at the firm, everyone went out for drinks, but I just… wanted to see you. Wanted us to have some time together before Zoe joins us.”

 

“Is it okay that I invited her?” Connor asks, suddenly a little unsure.

 

Evan’s eyes widen. “She’s your sister,” he says, laughing a little. “Of course you can invite your sister around for dinner.” He shrugs again. “And we’ve had dinner with her before. It’s just going to be a little different, considering that we’re…”

 

“I’ve never had dinner with my sister and my boyfriend before,” Connor says with a soft smile. “I like it.”

 

Evan rolls his eyes, like he’s about to remind Connor that he’s never had a boyfriend before, but he doesn’t say anything, he just leans in and kisses Connor again.

 

The two of them talk about their days as Connor finishes cooking the rice and Evan starts doing some dishes, despite Connor telling him he doesn’t have to. Edgar rubs his little face on Evan’s ankles as he stands by the sink, meowing insistently, and eventually Evan relents and bends down to scratch under his chin.

 

Connor’s well aware that Evan’s not exactly a cat person but he seems to be warming up to Edgar, which Connor appreciates. He suspects that most of Evan’s initial hesitance had less to do with Edgar himself and more to do with Connor’s mental health, but honestly Connor thinks that having Edgar around has helped.

 

The meal’s ready in plenty of time, so Connor puts the rice aside to stay warm and pours him and Evan a glass of whisky and opens the wine to let it breathe. Then he sits down at the kitchen table next to Evan and takes his hand in his, like it’s easy, like it’s completely natural.

 

Connor loves it. Loves being able to touch Evan, being able to just reach out and hold his hand, being able to kiss him when he wants to and touch him when he wants to and just… be near him. It’s the kind of thing he’s never really let himself think about until now, but since he has the opportunity now, he’s going to make the most of it.

 

“So,” says Evan, running his thumb across Connor’s knuckles. “Dinner with your sister.”

 

Connor smiles. “You know my sister.”

 

“I do,” Evan agrees with a smile of his own. “Doesn’t mean it’s not a big deal.” He leans over and kisses Connor. “I like that you and Zoe are close,” he says quietly. “I like that you have her. That you can call her when… when things aren’t so great.”

 

Connor feels his heart squeeze as he thinks about last month, about calling Zoe in the middle of the night, about how much he’d scared Evan. “I’m sorry about last month, I-”

 

“Not your fault,” Evan interrupts firmly, leaning in to kiss him again. “I’m just glad you have Zoe.”

 

So is Connor.

 

When Zoe arrives, Edgar rushes up to her like he hasn’t seen her in weeks and she makes a huge fuss over him, telling him how beautiful he is, before even really acknowledging Evan and Connor. When she stands up, she hugs both of them and hands Connor a bottle of whisky.

 

Of 25-year-old Chivas, to be exact.

 

“I know how much you like it,” she says with a fond smile.

 

“This is special occasion whisky,” Connor protests, and Zoe just smiles even wider.

 

“It _is_ a special occasion,” she insists. “I’m having dinner with my brother and his boyfriend. That’s huge. I’ve ever done that before.”

 

“Okay,” Connor says with a roll of his eyes. “You’re both getting all wound up about this whole dinner thing when we all know each other and have known each other for at least a decade now, Jesus fuck. And we’ve been friends for over a year and we’ve all hung out a bunch of times, this isn’t a big deal just because Evan and I are a couple now.”

 

“It’s a big deal,” Zoe says as she takes off her jacket and puts it on the back of a chair. “We’re celebrating that you’re doing better, Connor. That’s a big deal.”

 

Connor turns to Evan for support but he’s got this soft, kind smile on his face like he agrees. “You’re doing so much better,” Evan says softly. “It’s worth celebrating. _You’re_ worth celebrating.”

 

Before Connor can argue, Evan’s kissing him again, and Connor closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy it. They kiss for longer than is probably appropriate in front of his sister and when they break apart, Zoe is rolling her eyes but looks so happy it makes Connor smile all over again.

 

Connor serves everyone dinner and they dig in over wine and whisky. Once they all sit down to eat, it’s just completely easy - no gaps in the conversation, no weird silences, no awkwardness, just three people who know and care about each other having dinner and drinking and talking about their days.

 

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Zoe says after eating her first bite of the honey soy chicken. “This is fucking amazing, Connor. Oh my god, next time Mom visits you have to cook for her, she’ll go fucking nuts.”

 

“Slow cooking is not hard,” Connor feels compelled to say. “You seriously just throw shit in the slow cooker and it does it all for you. Buy a slow cooker, I’ll give you the recipe for this.”

 

“And burn down my apartment?” Zoe says with a laugh. “I don’t think so.”

 

“I swear you can’t mess this up,” Connor replies, laughing as well. “If I can do it, you can do it.”

 

Zoe rolls her eyes. “I’m just going to have to subcontract all my cooking onto you.”

 

“I can’t cook either,” Evan confesses. “Connor’s slow cooker habit is working out really well for me.”

 

When they finish dinner, they also finish the wine, and the three of them end up just digging into the carton of dairy-free ice cream with spoons while they drink whisky and talk and laugh and make dumb jokes and at one point, Edgar decides he wants in and climbs up on Connor’s shoulder and Connor has to stop him from putting his paw in Connor’s glass of whisky.

 

“No booze for you,” Connor tells Edgar as he meows unhappily the third time Connor stops him from trying to get into his drink. “You’re underage.”

 

“Your cat is so fucking weird,” Zoe snorts. “I love him so much, he’s so great.”

 

“He’s definitely weird,” Evan says with a laugh. “But he’s cute, and he makes Connor happy.” He leans on Connor’s other shoulder and Edgar takes the opportunity to leap into Evan’s lap, then curls up and purrs happily.

 

“He likes you,” Connor says to Evan, then kisses him softly. “He has great taste. You’re amazing.”

 

Evan’s face softens. “You’re the one who’s amazing.”

 

“You guys are disgusting,” Zoe says with a huge grin.

 

Connor rolls his eyes. “You love it.”

 

Zoe grins even wider. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

 

* * *

 

So they weren’t having sex yet, but that didn’t mean Evan and Connor weren’t all over each other most of the time. They were constantly, perpetually touching, and the fact that Evan’s anxiety had hit the brakes when it came to sex only meant that they got really comfortable with other forms of physical intimacy and Evan had to admit he really liked that. A lot.

For one thing, he got to hold Connor’s hand, like. All of the time. Not just one of them needed reassuring. He could just… reach out and take Connor’s hand in his and hold it if he wanted. Connor had really nice hands. So nice that Evan was sort of a bit embarrassed by his bitten fingernails and cuticles, his tendency to get ink on his fingers when he wrote himself notes at work, and sometimes those notes were on his hands. Connor, by contrast, usually had neatly trimmed nails. Sometimes they were painted. No smudges of ink or bitten cuticles, though Evan noticed he sometimes had a bandaid or two from papercuts he got unloading books. Connor didn’t seem to mind Evan’s less than ideal hands. He commented that he liked how Evan’s hands were usually warmer than his and then sometimes he’d be in a good mood and stick his cold hands on Evan’s skin, like his face or his neck or down his shirt. He had long, slender fingers and usually he wore a ring or two, and Evan liked getting to lace their fingers together, he liked getting to pull Connor’s hand to his lips.

Also Evan got to hug Connor more. Got to pull him close and keep him there, not pull away immediately. Sometimes, Connor would rest his head on Evan’s shoulder or chest and he’d fall asleep and it felt like he was giving Evan something very private, very precious. He got to be a soft place for Connor to rest and he really, really liked that. Plus Connor kept very still and very quiet when he slept, so when he fell asleep on Evan it was easier to reassure himself that Connor was alive, that he was okay, just sleeping, just tired.

And of course the kissing. Lately, when Evan stayed the night, he would wake up to find Connor pressed up against him, and he was so beautiful, so gorgeous, his face relaxed and his hair a mess. Evan would often wake up to find Connor’s nose pressed against his collarbone, his breath warm against Evan’s skin, his hand having found its way under Evan’s shirt, a warm weight on his chest or stomach. Sometimes, Evan would kiss the top of Connor’s head and go back to sleep. Sometimes he would kiss Connor’s head and Connor would wake up, his eyes fluttering open, and he would kiss Evan softly. And the kiss would get deeper, it would get warmer in the room, and they would still be half asleep and stealing soft, warm kisses, their hands gently roving, ghosting across skin, and Evan’s body was very aware of Connor’s, tuned in to every move and breath and touch.

And he thought for the millionth time, that his nerves were stupid, that he was overthinking and stopping him from getting to have sex with his gorgeous, beautiful, incredible boyfriend.

But then Connor would kiss his neck, or bite his collarbone, or his hands would grip Evan’s hips and then Evan’s heart would speed up uncomfortably, because was Connor alright? Did he have the energy for this? Would he be alright, would he be too tired, had he slept okay, would it hurt him, set him back?

And Evan would pull away. Before it got to be too much, before Evan started to hyperventilate or push himself past his limits. So he would gently kiss Connor one more time, pull his hands away, untangle himself and take some time to calm down because.

Fuck.

He wanted so badly to have sex with Connor. But he knew he wasn’t ready yet. He wasn’t ready.

But he did really like kissing Connor. A lot. So much. It might be his absolute favorite thing. Well. Other than holding his hand and holding him and getting to cuddle up with him and… Fuck Evan was so gone for him. It was silly.

He kissed Connor again. And again and again.

“Hey,” Connor said, smiling.

“Hey.”

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“I love you,” Connor said, and he smiled softly and Evan kissed him again and again.

“I love you too. So much.” Evan kissed his cheek. “So… I have a proposition for you,” Evan said.

“Is that so?” Connor said, and he was smiling easily.

“Yeah,” Evan said, kissing Connor’s cheek. “I was thinking you could let me take you on a date tonight.”

Connor sat up swiftly. And Evan sat up too. “Too much?”

“No…” Connor looked at Evan, his gaze steady. “I just. I’ve… I’ve only ever been on one date before. I might be bad at it?”

Evan smiled. “First off, I have it on good authority that the date you went on with Parker actually went super well.”

“What?”

“Yeah when I ran into him at that weird Andi-theatre thing… Did I not tell you that?” Evan said, stopped, realizing he hadn’t said anything to Connor about this as soon as Connor’s eyes went wide. “Fuck. I, yeah, I ran into him in the bathroom? And I said I knew Andi and he said she’d set him up with a great guy and they had a great date so… I don’t think you’re bad at it.”

“But… you matter,” Connor said softly.

“Yeah. And so do you,” Evan said. “We’ll keep it lowkey, yeah? No pressure. Just something… together. If you get tired or you get bored or it feels weird, we can call it off.”

“Okay,” Connor said. “I trust you.”

“So… what about dinner and a movie?” Evan suggested, kissing Connor’s cheek. “We could do dinner at the diner, the one where we didn’t die? And then this theatre a few blocks away is playing _But I’m a Cheerleader?_ It’s one of my favorites and I remember you said you’ve never seen it?”

Connor nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that,” He said with a smile. “We’ve done dinner and a movie before,” He said, his head tilted slightly.

“We have,” Evan said with a smile.

“So what makes it a date?”

Evan wrapped his arms around Connor, kissing his shoulder, his cheek. “Well… when we argue about who pays, you’ll be my boyfriend, not just my overly generous best friend who I get to sleep with sometimes.”

“Is that so?”

“And when I win that argument,” Evan went on, tucking a piece of hair behind Connor’s ear. “Which I will, because I argue for a living and I am very good at it, so I’ll definitely win.”

“Oh yeah?” Connor said.

“Yes,” He said and he pressed a light kiss just under Connor’s ear. “And when I win that argument, I’ll get to tell you I love you after.”

Connor’s eyes lit up. He smiled.

“Okay?” Evan asked.

Connor looked at him, suddenly awkward. “What… what do you wear? On a date?”

Evan kissed Connor again. He practically tackled him into the mattress, covering him in kisses, murmuring, “You wear whatever you want. Show up naked if you want. I love you. I love you so much. You could go in your pajamas and I’d still think you were the most beautiful thing in the world.”

Connor’s cheeks were a bit pink. “Stop,” he mumbled. “You’re flattering me.”

“Yes,” Evan said kissing him again. “I am. I love you. You’re beautiful. I’m allowed to tell you that, right?”

“I guess…” Connor kissed Evan, smiling. “Do I get to say it back?”

Evan smiled. “Only if you want to.”

“Oh I want to. I always want to,” Connor said.

“You’re such a dork, I love you,” Evan said, kissing him.

Evan kissed Connor a few more times, and then in the afternoon, he left to go home and shower and get dressed. And to give Connor time to do the same, and to take a nap and generally bum around and do whatever he wanted to do with his day.

Evan walked home, feeling a weird bubbling sort of excitement, butterflies in his stomach. He was excited to go on a date with Connor. He was excited to get to go somewhere with Connor, as his boyfriend. He was excited to walk down the street holding his hand. He was excited, and it was… weird. Strange. Amazing.

When he got back to his apartment, Evan discovered Alex and Mattie giggling in the kitchen, trying to make what looked like a roast chicken.

“What are you two up to?” Evan asked, smiling.

“I’m shoving a lemon in the ass of a chicken,” Alex said. “And Mattie is… trying to help.”

“I got distracted,” Mattie said with a shrug. “Who knew she’d look so good with her hand in a bird’s ass?”

“You two are adorable,” Evan said smiling. “What’s the occasion?”

“Alex wants to impress your mum when she comes in for Thanksgiving,” Mattie said, grinning. “So we’re having a little… practice feast.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Evan said, but he was grinning because that was. So nice. So adorable.

“I do, actually,” Alex said reasonably. “I’ve never actually done any kosher cooking? So I wanted to do, like, a trial run? Keeping dairy out of the way and stuff.” She smiled. “I’ve never really done it before and this is basically the only time I’ll have to an entire trial run before Thanksgiving.” She smiled hard. “Your mom is so nice and so cute and I just want to make a nice dinner for Thanksgiving.”

Evan grinned brightly at her. “You’re amazing. You don’t have to do all of this, but my mom is going to love it.”

Alex smiled and Mattie giggled. “So what brought you home?” Alex asked him. “Normally we just don’t see you on weekends anymore.”

Evan smiled, shrugging. “Oh. I. I’m actually taking Connor on a date? Tonight? So I figured… maybe I should, like, let him get ready and whatever.”

“Oh a date!” Mattie said, smiling excitedly. She smacked Alex lightly. “Why don’t you ever take me on those?”

Alex shrugged. “We live together and work together. Every damn day is a date,” She teased, kissing Mattie’s nose.

“What are you doing?” Mattie asked.

“Just… dinner and a movie. Something pretty stress-free. Since uh… Connor hasn’t really done a lot of dating? And he’s still, like recovering and whatever?”

“Sounds adorable.”

 

* * *

 

A date. Right.

 

Connor can do this. Connor can absolutely do this. He can go on a date with his amazing boyfriend without completely fucking it up. It’s just dinner and a movie. He can do this.

 

Fuck, he and Evan have done dinner and a movie before they were boyfriends, so it’s not like it’s completely new territory.

 

It’s just…

 

Well, it kind of freaks Connor out, the fact that he just… doesn’t really know what he’s doing when it comes to dating. He’s been on one date that apparently went well (he’s yet to get his head around the fact that Evan Talked To Parker About Their Date, what the FUCK) but he’d kind of sucked at the follow through, so… honestly, Connor doesn’t know if he’s bad at it or just hasn’t had enough practice.

 

And Evan deserves better than Connor fumbling around, being Bad at Dating.

 

He deserves so much better than Connor, he deserves -

 

“Nope,” Connor says aloud. Edgar, who is perched on Evan’s pillow, lifts up his little head and looks at Connor, like he’s waiting for him to continue. “I’m not getting myself into some negative self-talk bullshit. I love Evan and he loves me and I’m not letting my stupid troll brain ruin everything.”

 

Edgar lets out a little meow, which Connor takes as a sign of agreement.

 

There’s time before he’s supposed to be meeting Evan, so Connor climbs into bed and sets his alarm so he has to time to shower and get ready after his nap. Once he’s got himself comfortable, Edgar climbs over him to curl in the small of his back and he manages to get a couple of hours of sleep.

 

He wakes up about five minutes before his alarm is set to go off to Edgar batting at his nose with his front paw, clearly in the mood to play. Connor grabs the laser pointer Zoe got him from his bedside table and takes a few minutes to send Edgar on a wild red dot chase, which has the desired effect of keeping Edgar entertained and wearing him out a little.

 

Edgar has a lot more energy these days, which Connor approves of, because when Connor first found him he’d just been so little and so skinny and so tired. Now he’s well fed and well looked after and his coat is glossy and he’s put on some weight and he looks a whole lot better.

 

It’s nice to be able to see Edgar improving, because it helps Connor recognize that he’s improving, too.

 

Once he’s turned off his alarm and given Edgar some good belly rubs, he decides it’s time to start getting ready. Connor heads to the bathroom to shave and shower and dry his hair and when he gets back to his bedroom, he stares at his closet for a while because he has no idea what he’s supposed to wear on a date.

 

He kind of thinks it’d be rude to wear the same thing he wore on his date with Parker, because he’d sent Evan a selfie that night and Evan would definitely notice and that would be bad, right?

 

“Fuck,” he says softly, and Edgar lets out a slightly scandalized meow. Connor rolls his eyes at his cat, then goes back to staring at his closet. “Okay,” he says after a moment. “I’ll start with the basics.” He puts on some clean socks and underwear, then grabs the pair of jeans he knows Evan likes and puts them on, then stares at his closet for a little longer.

 

He settles on a short-sleeved shirt covered in tiny pineapples that his mom had bought him last Thanksgiving, which he actually hasn’t worn particularly often, for some reason. It fits well and looks good on him, and it’s not too formal but it’s a bit different to what he wears every day, so… probably okay for a date.

Connor puts on the shirt, then some shoes, then looks at Edgar, who is busy licking himself. “Edgar,” he says gently. “What do you think, dude?”

 

Edgar stops what he’s doing, meows quietly, then goes right back to licking his ass.

 

“I don’t know if that’s a yes or a no,” Connor admits, then takes a moment to snap a selfie and send it to his sister.

 

**Evan and I have a date**

**Is this a date outfit?**

**I don’t know**

 

Zoe responds almost immediately.

 

**Very nice**

**Pretty sure Evan doesn’t give a fuck what you wear**

**He just wants to rip your clothes off**

 

Connor, who does not wish to discuss such matters with his sister, decides not to mention that he and Evan are not, in fact, having sex at the moment, because Evan’s not ready.

 

And Connor… doesn’t know if he’s ready. He really doesn’t. He’s never had sex with someone he’s been in a relationship with, because he’s never been in a relationship, and he doesn’t know if it’s supposed to be different, and that kind of scares him a little, because what if he gets it wrong, somehow? At the end of the day, Connor doesn’t know the rules. He doesn’t know what makes being Evan’s boyfriend different from being his friend, apart from not being in denial about how much he loves him.

 

Well, no, that’s not entirely true. He knows that things have been different since they both said I love you, but most of it is just… not holding himself back anymore. If he wants to touch Evan, he can. He doesn’t have to worry about it being weird outside of sex. He’s allowed now. If he wants to kiss Evan, he can. He can pull Evan close to him and feel his heart beating, feel him breathing, and it’s okay, he doesn’t have to worry about whether he’s crossing some kind of a line.

 

Connor thinks that Evan is feeling that, too, and he loves it. He completely loves it. He loves it when Evan reaches out to hold his hand, buries his face in Connor’s neck, kisses him gently and puts his hands all over him and is just so incredibly physically affectionate that Connor feels like they’ve wasted so much time holding themselves back when they could have had this.

 

If he had only figured it out earlier, or if Evan had said something, or if…

 

“ _What ifs_ are great if you’re trying to write, like, a piece of fiction,” Praveed had said the last time they talked about this, “but they’ll eat you alive if you apply them to real life too much, dude.”

 

Connor brushes his hair again, then pulls out a cardigan thing he doesn’t wear much because he thinks it makes him look like a fucking hipster and debates bringing it along in case he gets cold. Then he remembers that Evan’s told him on numerous occasions that he kinda is a fucking hipster, but that Evan likes it, and… well, it’s more formal than a hoodie and less formal than a blazer, so he throws it on and looks at his reflection in the mirror for a long time.

 

He’s still thinner than he should be, still paler, but he looks… alive. He catches a glimpse of something in his expression, something like anticipation, and realizes that he’s really, really looking forward to seeing Evan.

 

Even though he’s only been gone for a few hours.

 

“Being in love is weird,” Connor announces to the room. Edgar meows from the bed and Connor turns to look at him. “It really is, dude. It really is.”

 

There’s a text from Evan on his phone, telling him that he’s heading out soon, so Connor grabs his wallet (even though Evan had all but said he was paying, Connor’s not going down without a fight) and his keys and Edgar follows him down the stairs of his apartment into the store, where Maureen’s busy restocking a shelf.

 

She smiles at him when she sees him. “You look nice,” she says warmly. “I saw Evan leave earlier, are you heading to see him?”

 

“Yeah,” Connor replies, and he can’t help but smile. “We’re doing dinner and a movie.”

 

Maureen’s smile widens. “That’s so cute. You guys are so cute.”

 

“This is actually our first date,” Connor confesses, and Maureen’s eyes widen in surprise.

 

“Really? But you guys… really?”

 

“Yeah,” Connor admits, feeling his cheeks turning a little pink. “I, uh, I don’t know how much you gathered from the whole… bookstore grapevine, but we spent a whole lot of time with our heads in our asses.”

 

Maureen giggles. “Leslie _might_ have said something along those lines,” she says with a grin. Her face softens. “You look really happy.”

 

“I am,” Connor says immediately.

 

Edgar meows and rubs his little face on Maureen’s ankle, and she reaches down and lets him climb onto her shoulder. “I’ll look after this little guy for you,” she says as Edgar nuzzles her cheek. “You go out there and have a great night with your man.”

 

“Have a good rest of your shift,” Connor says with a smile, then heads out of the store and into the early evening. It’s warm, but not too warm, and it’s a pleasant walk to Pete’s Diner, aka The Diner Where They Didn’t Die, which is legitimately what he and Evan have both called it for a year and a half now.

 

Hopefully the owner never hears them calling it that, because trying to explain would definitely be a whole thing.

 

When Connor arrives, Evan’s already there, sitting at the booth they always sit at. Connor takes a moment to just look at him before making his presence known. He looks good, like always, and Connor’s almost relieved to see that he looks nervous, too.

 

Then he turns his head and sees Connor and his eyes light up and Connor feels a warmth spreading all through his chest, through his stomach, through his entire body.

 

Evan has always made him feel warm.

 

Connor walks over and Evan stands up and then they’re kissing like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be doing, and Evan’s smile is as bright and sunny as ever, and they both grin at each other like idiots before taking seats opposite each other.

 

They both rest their hands on the table and it’s not long before Evan’s taken Connor’s hand and is holding it gently, rubbing his thumb across Connor’s knuckles.

 

“Fancy seeing you here,” Connor jokes, and Evan laughs.

 

“You look great,” Evan says warmly.

 

“So do you,” Connor replies, because he does. He really, really does. He smiles at Evan. “So this is a date, huh?”

 

Evan laughs again. “You literally just arrived. The date has barely started.”

 

Connor grins. “Well, you’re here, and there’s going to be food, so I’m already calling it a success.”

 

Evan rolls his eyes good-naturedly and laughs. “Dork,” he says affectionately. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

Evan took some time to shower and get dressed. Because they were going for more of a casual date, Evan put on a pair of jeans that he had a feeling Connor liked because when he had worn them before they started dating, Connor kept grabbing Evan’s ass. So he figured Connor would like the jeans. He put on a short sleeve button up, blue with polka dots, something he had bought ages ago and had never worn because he never wore anything that wasn’t suits during the week and most weekends if he managed to put on a sweater he felt like he had won over his basic impulse to wear a t-shirt and a hoodie all of the time.

So. He put on a new shirt and a pair of jeans he knew Connor liked and put a little bit of gel in his hair and realized, suddenly, that he was nervous.

Not scary nervous, not throw up because of anxiety, nervous. He was nervous because he was going on a date with his boyfriend who he was in love with and this was their first date. Their first official proper date and it was going to mean something.

And that was great. That was amazing. And Evan was nervous because he hoped it would be a good time, he hoped Connor would enjoy himself.

He was nervous because he was hopeful and Evan wasn’t a hopeful person. He wasn’t an optimist. But he was in love with Connor and he was hopeful.

That was fucking weird.

Being in love was fucking weird.

Evan did end up throwing a hoodie on because restaurants and movie theatres could be cold. He stopped at the bodega near his house on the way to the diner, picking up some peanut butter cups and Kit Kats because Evan was a poor kid at heart and poor kids snuck candy into the movies. Plus if he showed up with flowers Evan had a feeling that it would just freak Connor out so instead he brought contraband theatre candy and shoved it into his bag and then walked to The Diner Where They Didn’t Die.

He didn’t smoke on his way there because he didn’t want to smell like smoke for Connor which was silly because Connor knew he smoked but part of him sort of desperately wanted to be… better than normal on this date. Appealing. Impressive, if possible. He just wanted to… look and smell nice for Connor.

Whatever.

He could be in love.

Evan sort of wanted to pick Connor up at the bookstore but he was trying hard not to overwhelm him with Date Stuff. He knew Connor was nervous and he wanted to make this date as lowkey and chill as possible.

Evan made it to the diner. He asked the hostess if he could have their usual booth, and she smiled and said that would be fine and he got a glass of water and picked up a paper napkin. But he put it down, didn’t rip it up, just twisted it a few times. Put it down. Drank a little water. Twisted the napkin a few more times.

And then Connor was there. Evan’s stomach flipped. And he smiled, he smiled so hard because Connor was there he came he was there. And Evan stood up, to greet Connor, and they were kissing, Evan was kissing Connor and Connor kissed him back, smiling when they broke apart. He had the best smile, the best fucking smile and Evan’s stomach flipped over again, and they were just standing there and stupidly grinning at each other and Evan loved him so fucking much.

They sat down, Connor on his side and Evan sat on his. And they smiled at each other, and their hands were on the table and Evan took Connor’s hand and held it. He held Connor’s hand, his perfectly, lovely hand and he rubbed his thumb across Connor’s knuckles because he loved Connor’s hands and he loved Connor.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Connor joked.

Evan smiled, then laughed. “You look great,” Evan said because he did. He looked great. Better than he had in weeks. He was wearing this shirt with pineapples on it and Evan sort of wanted to rip it open and touch Connor’s chest because that shirt was fucking obscene, it made him look both sexy and adorable and it wasn’t fair. Great didn’t cover it.

“So do you,” Connor said back and his smile was fucking breathtaking. “So this is a date, huh?”

Evan laughed because Connor was too fucking cute for words. “You literally just arrived. The date has barely started.”

Connor grinned at Evan, his eyes sparkling. “Well, you’re here, and there’s going to be food, so I’m already calling it a success.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Dork,” he said to Connor. “I love you so much.” So much. So fucking much.

“I love you, too.”

Their waiter appeared to take their drink order and Evan grinned stupidly at Connor, the way he was scanning the menu, like he was thinking hard, and they had eaten here dozens of times and most of the time Connor ordered scrambled eggs because it bothered Evan. Maybe he was considering his options differently because this was a date. Maybe he just felt like something else. Evan didn’t know. But he was holding Connor’s hand and that was… really nice.

Connor’s hands were just… ugh. God, Evan loved Connor’s hands. And his fingernails were painted again and Evan loved that, he loved that Connor would paint his fingernails and he knew that they had been freshly done because there was the smallest amount of black polish still on the cuticle and Evan just loved that Connor did that, he loved that Connor was here with him, in this diner wearing this pineapple shirt with his painted fingernails and this cardigan that Evan hadn’t seen before and Connor had intentionally looked nice for this silly date and Evan loved him, he loved this moment, it was awesome.

A moment passed and suddenly Evan noticed there was a straight couple sitting a few booths down from where he and Connor were sitting. They were on the same side of the booth and they were making out so aggressively that Evan could hear them. Evan giggled. Because of course they couldn’t have a nice normal first date. They had to have this one, in The Diner Where They Didn’t Die with a hetero couple who was trying to have literal sex a couple of booths over.

“What?” Connor asked, his eyebrows up.

“Look,” He said quietly, tilting his head slightly toward the straight couple. Connor blinked a few times, his nose wrinkling a little. Evan looked over as subtly as he could to see that the straights were like practically humping.

“Wow,” Connor said.

“I know,” Evan said softly. “I was trying to have a nice date with my boyfriend and now there’s porn happening two seats over.”

Connor smiled at him. “We’re on a nice date.”

“We are,” Evan said, smiling. “I think we might be on their date, though. I think everyone in this restaurant is on their date.”

Connor smiled wider. Evan wanted to kiss him but he was too far away for an easy kiss so instead he took Connor’s hand and kissed that. Connor smiled at him, like he was surprised but delighted by that move.

“What are you thinking of getting?” Evan asked him.

“Eggs,” Connor quipped and it wasn’t quite his usual fast wit but it was good and Evan laughed and smiled so hard because this was really fucking happening. This was really happening. He was out to dinner with Connor and he had done that before, here in this booth before, dozens and dozens of times. But this time was different, it was special, because he and Connor were together now. They were together and this was real, not a dream or a wish. It was real. “What about you?” Connor asked.

“Not sure yet,” Evan said.

Connor looked perplexed. “You always pick your food out before we go places.”

“Yeah, but… it’s an anxiety thing. And I’m… You don’t make me anxious. I know you’re not. I don’t have to be, like, embarrassed or whatever. If it takes me a while to decide. Not in front of you.”

Connor smiled at him, so brightly, and it was wonderful. It was so wonderful. It was so distractingly wonderful that Connor had to catch Evan almost accidentally ordering non-turkey bacon to go with the French Toast he ordered.

“Thanks,” Evan said, flushing.

“Of course,” Connor said, and he smiled and it knocked Evan out that smile. He was so blown away. He could hardly focus, he was so… just enamored with Connor. It was ridiculous. He’d been in love with Connor for like a year, a year, and suddenly Connor was here and this was a date and Evan couldn’t even get a word out because he was just so fucking in love and Connor was there, he was there and this was a date and Evan couldn’t even say date things, do date things because he was too busy staring at Connor and being fucking in love with him.

“Hey guess what?” Connor said.

“What?”

“I love you.”

Evan smiled so hard his face hurt. “I love you too. I love you so much.”

Connor smiled back.

“Oh my god,” the straight girl behind them moaned, like actually moaned. “You’re amazing you’re so great you’re the greatest oh my god.”

“Not as great as you, holy shit, you’re amazing.”

Evan and Connor both ducked their heads, doing their damnedest not to laugh too loudly. It was ridiculous. The straights mercifully returned to kissing but it took Evan and Connor a couple of minutes to stop giggling.

When their food arrived, Evan doused his French Toast in maple syrup and Connor ate his eggs and Evan rolled his eyes at him and it was… Perfect.

Even with the straight couple sucking face in the booth near them, even with the slight bags under Connor’s eyes, even with the nervous flutter in Evan’s chest, it was perfect.

“So tell me about this movie,” Connor say, munching his piece of toast.

“Okay, so it’s really weird,” Evan said honestly. “My mom… Okay so when I came out to my mom she like? Googled, like, LGBTQ movies I think.”

“How old were you?”

Evan sighed. “Seventeen. The whole Jared thing was happening, my mom was basically the only other person I talked to…”

“Adorable. Your mom is. Adorable.”

“Anyway… The movie, it’s like about this girl who is gay, and her parents send her to this bonkers as hell conversion therapy? And oh my god, like, my mom totally freaked out. She thought she was the worst mom in the world for showing me this, but it’s such a weird.. Satire? Like it was so weird and kind of hilarious, and it has a happy ending. Also RuPaul is in it? And I love it because of how weird it is.”

“Okay,” Connor said. “I like weird.”

“I know. You like _me_ , don’t you?”

“I love you,” Connor said. He took a bite of his eggs. “So… This movie date?”

“What about it?”

“Will there be making out in the back of the theatre? Or is that just something that happens in movies?”

“Oh, there will be making out,” Evan said. “But not before I pretend to yawn so I can put my arm around you.”

Connor’s face went pink. “Okay.”

“And also just like… So much hand holding. Like, your hand? You might want to stretch your fingers because I’m going to be holding the hell out of your hand.”

“You are so fucking weird,” Connor said, smiling.

“Oh yeah. I’ve been holding back the weird in an attempt to impress you. I’m super weird.”

“Oh yeah? How weird are we talking?”

“Super weird,” Evan said. “I haven’t even begun to show you how weird I am about nature stuff? Like, I love camping. And I was an Eagle Scout. _And_ I was a park ranger in high school. I live in a city but I fucking love nature. Like a weirdo.”

“Do you like, collect bugs or whatever?”

“I did, as a kid,” Evan said with a shrug. “Butterflies mostly. I would give them to my mom and we would put them into a little container?”

“You like butterflies.”

“Yes. And moths.”

“Moths are creepy.”

“They are, but I like them,” Evan said. “Especially the fuzzy ones. Because I’m super weird.”

“I love you, weirdo.”

“I love you too.”

When their waiter brought the check, Connor did try to pick it up but Evan grabbed it faster. “I believe I told you I was paying.”

“You actually told me we would be arguing about the check.”

“And I believe I said I would be winning that argument,” Evan said. “And I can have the stenographer read back our testimony if you like.”

“Oh so there was a stenographer in my bedroom?”

“Did I not mention Edgar is a trained courtroom stenographer?”

Connor laughed. And then he grinned, just. So hard.

“One more thing,” Evan said, putting his card down on top of the bill. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Connor said. “But I’m definitely paying for the movie tickets.”

Evan laughed, tilting his head. “Oh, nice try. I bought them online as soon as you agreed to go with me.”

Connor looked equal parts impressed and annoyed, and Evan wanted so badly to kiss him. He had to resist the urge to circle the table and make out with Connor in this booth like the straight couple a few booths over. But Evan resisted that urge, barely, and paid their bill. They left the restaurant and Evan looped his arm around Connor’s waist, pulling him close and kissed him. On the street, in front of people, he kissed Connor and Connor kissed him back enthusiastically. His lips were so soft against Evan’s, and he tasted like breakfast food and coffee but most of all like Connor, and god Connor was so beautiful, Evan ran his fingers through Connor’s hair and Evan wanted to push him against a wall and make out with him, get him off, touch him make him gasp and shake…

But when Evan’s fingers grazed Connor’s sides through his pineapple shirt he could feel Connor’s ribs a bit more prominently than they did before this summer and the nervous, happy butterflies in his stomach feeling jerked, violently, into worry and. Evan kissed him again, softly, and pulled away. Did not pull Connor into a secluded alleyway and suck him off, instead taking his hand, reassuring himself that Connor was here and real and safe. They had so much time for sex and potentially lewd public behavior. So he kissed his boyfriend once more, softer still, and pulled away and Connor was looking at him with this soft expression that Evan loved. So much.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Connor said, his cheeks a little pink, that soft expression on his face so open and warm. He kissed Evan again. “I love you so much.”

Evan took Connor’s hand, laced their fingers together. “Ready for the movie portion of this date?”

Connor grinned. “Okay.”

They held hands on the walk to the theatre, fingers laced together. Painted fingernails beside chewed up cuticles, warm palms against cold ones. The walk was short and the weather was cool but not cold and the setting sunlight made Connor’s hair look almost golden and Connor smiled at Evan, this sort of almost nervous smile, pressing a kiss to the bridge of Evan’s nose unexpectedly saying, “You have freckles on your nose. They are… so cute. And I’ve always wanted to do that.”

It made something squirm inside of Evan happily, it made him feel like he was growing warm from the inside out, it made him feel more in love if that was somehow possible.

They walked into the movie theatre, Evan grabbing the door and holding it open for Connor and Connor sort of laughing awkward. “What?”

“Did you just hold the door open for me? Like a gentleman?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “I literally open doors for you all of the time.”

“Yeah, but, we’re on a date,” Connor said and Evan stopped and kissed him because he just fucking loved his dorky boyfriend in his adorable pineapple shirt and he sort of kind of really loved Connor calling him a gentleman so. He kissed him once more, not giving a fuck about PDA or the potential of homophobes, and then held open the inside door of the theatre for Connor as their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting inside. It smelled like popcorn and the floors had that same weird, galaxy pattern that a lot of places designed in the 1990s had, plus a sort of vague stickiness from spilled sodas over the years. He grabbed Connor’s hand and kissed the back of it.

“What are your thoughts on popcorn?” Evan asked.

“We just ate,” Connor said with a smile. “You might remember, you almost ordered pig bacon and there was a straight couple trying to make a baby in front of us?”

“So what? No popcorn?”

“I have a weird feeling you’re trying to feed me all of the time,” Connor said, and he was smiling a little.

“Yeah you’re probably right,” Evan admitted. “But I like popcorn. And I think you do too. So… should we get popcorn?”

“Are you going to let me pay for it?” Connor asked.

“Not a chance.”

Connor laughed. “I’ll Venmo you half…”

“No you will not,” Evan said, kissing Connor’s cheek. “If you want to pay for something so bad you can take me on your own date.”

Connor looked surprised but then his face morphed into a big smile, this massive dorky, adorable smile. “You’d let me take you on a date?”

“Of course, obviously. Not that you have to do it, like, right away. But if you ever wanted… Of course I would.”

Connor smiled really wide. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

They did end up with popcorn. And a large icee thing because both of them admitted they always loved those as kids but rarely got to have them, so they split one. Blue raspberry. They picked seats in the middle, toward the back, and true to his word, when the previews began to roll, Evan did fake a yawn and put his arm around Connor and Connor smiled, laughed and kissed him and it was… great. The whole thing was great.

Connor seemed to enjoy the movie. Evan was glad. He laughed a lot, groaned a few times at some of the cluelessly silly gay things these characters said and did. They ate the contraband candy and the popcorn and they drank their icee thing and even in the dark Evan could see Connor’s lips had turned blue from the blue raspberry syrup they used to make the frozen drink. And when Graham and Megan kissed at the bar, Evan and Connor did kiss and make out and giggle at themselves for being so stereotypical and silly.

When they walked out of the theatre, Connor kissed Evan again. Evan wrapped his arms around Connor, holding him close, and Connor said, softly, “Did the lead actress in that movie look familiar to you?”

Evan shrugged. “I mean I’ve seen the movie before. Why?”

“I just… I dunno, she looked like someone.”

“Yeah.” Evan kissed him again. “Did you have a good time?”

“I did. I really did.”

Evan tucked a strand of hair behind Connor’s ear. “I think our first date went pretty well. How about you?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Evan kissed him again. “What would you say if I came back to your place with you?” Evan asked.

Connor’s eyebrows went up. “Oh… I wasn’t sure if you wanted to do that?”

“I would love to come home with you,” Evan said. “I’m not sure if I can… But I could come over. And I have my meds, so if you wanted, I could sleep over?”

“Yeah. I’d really like that.”

They took a Lyft back to Connor’s apartment, their fingers interlocked on the ride over, both of them a little quiet, just listening to the Lizzo song the driver was playing. Connor made a big silly deal over opening the door for Evan when they got to his place, which made Evan laugh and his heart swell happily.

“So,” Connor said. “I’ve brought you home after a date. What now?”

“Well I was thinking…” Evan said, taking a step into Connor’s space, “That I could kiss you.”

“Yeah?” Connor said, his head tilted slightly. “I dunno how I feel about that, I mean, do you usually kiss after a first date?”  
Evan shoved him playfully. “We made out on the date!”

“Oh good point,” Connor said, and he kissed Evan, his one hand grazing Evan’s jawline, the other on his shoulder and Evan tangled a hand in Connor’s hair and they made out there in Connor’s kitchen for a while.

Connor pulled away breathlessly after a few minutes. “What if we… moved this to my room?”

Evan felt his stomach flip and his heart drop all at once.

“Not-not to be, like, the asshole boyfriend in a high school romcom trying to push you… Fuck that came out weird I just. We don’t have to do anything. I just… my neck sort of hurts from leaning down? I know that’s super dumb, you’re not even that much shorter than me but I think I might have slept weird earlier because Edgar was sleeping on me and oh my god you’re laughing.”

Evan tried so hard not to be laughing. “I’m sorry. I swear, I’m not laughing at you. You just… are so tall, and fucking adorable oh my god.”

“I am not adorable.”

“You are,” Evan said, standing up on his toes to kiss Connor again. “We can go to your bedroom. I don’t want you to pull anything.”

“Oh my god.”

“Is it, like, really terrible to realize you’re an old man already?” Evan teased and Connor playfully swatted at Evan’s arm, missing and instead just barely smacking his hip and the pair of them just started to laugh some more, laughing against each other’s mouths as the tumbled into Connor’s bed with Connor on top of Evan, disturbing Edgar from where he had been grooming himself at the foot of the bed. Edgar made an indignant little “mrow” noise and jumped down from the bed, and Evan laughed harder and Connor used the opportunity to poke him in the side where he was really, ridiculously ticklish and when he was made powerless laughing, Connor kissed the side of his jaw, then his neck and… okay. He could be into that.

“Is it okay if I uh…” Connor pulled away slightly, like he was distracted. He blinked a few times, and he bit his lip for just a second. “I just. Can I undo one of the buttons on your shirt? Or is that too much?”

“You can,” Evan said nodding, and then Connor did so, so easily, and he kissed Evan’s mouth again, soft and open and wet and his legs were straddling Evan’s now and his cock was definitely trying very hard to make this whole experience about itself. Evan shifted ever so slightly under Connor so he wasn’t just pressing his erection into Connor’s hip and Connor pressed a soft kiss against Evan’s collar bone.

“I… you’re just really gorgeous,” Connor said, kissing him again. “Am I allowed to say that? I just… you’re gorgeous and I love you.”

Evan grinning. “I love you too. So much. So fucking much.” His fingers wove their way into Connor’s hair, his hands grasping either side of Connor’s head, his right rubbing Connor’s ear light because he had sort of always wanted to do that but it felt weird before. “I think you have the cutest ears.”

Connor’s cheeks turned pink. “I do not, oh my god.”

“You do. I love them. They are seriously so cute.”

“Stop having pornographic thoughts about my ears,” Connor teased, and Evan petulantly refused. Instead he kissed Connor’s jaw, kissed his cheek, pressed his lips against Connor’s ear, and Connor squirmed delightfully and part of Evan loved that so much part of him wanted to flip Connor over roughly and do it again, ask Connor if he liked that, and touch him until Connor started to beg but… That was too much right now. So instead he kissed Connor’s lips again. And Connor opened his mouth and Evan fell into it, into kissing him, into Connor’s hair falling around both of their heads like a curtain, into the random and sudden and awesome kissing Connor would press to Evan’s throat, his collarbone… He seemed to really like Evan’s collarbone which was something Evan didn’t exactly understand but still enjoyed.

Connor eventually rolled off of Evan and Evan asked if he was okay.

“Yeah,” Connor said. “I just… is this okay? If it’s too much we can stop.”

“No, no this is… this is great,” Evan said. “Thank you for asking? I really appreciate it. You’re… so great.”

“Not as great as you.”

Evan laughed, kissing Connor again. “You gotta stop or we’ll become those straights from the diner.”

“If I was going to be that gross with someone, it would definitely be you.”

“I love you,” Evan said because he couldn’t stop saying it. He kissed Connor again, pulling him in close, hand trailing up his side gently. He kissed Connor’s cheek, his neck, his collarbone then his mouth again and it was. Nice. It was great.

They didn’t have sex that night. Everyone kept their clothes mostly on, and while there was definitely some groping and grinding, things pretty much stayed PG-13. But Connor insisted he didn’t mind and Evan could feel himself start to relax because Connor seemed tired, but not overtired after their date. He seemed happy, but not manic. He seemed okay. And Evan was relieved and some of the tension inside of him untwisted, just a little.


	23. November (One Year and Nine Months Later)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Connor, you useless fuck - you didn’t even know, did you? It was always Evan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder friends to read the tags! :)

They don’t really have a big discussion about it. It’s not a huge, big, momentous occasion, the first time they have sex as boyfriends instead of fuck-buddies. It’s not an over-the-top romantic moment.

 

It’s better than that.

 

It’s a Saturday afternoon, and they’ve had lunch and done some grocery shopping because Connor’s decided he wants to make dinner that night. Martha has converted him into a huge fan of the slow cooker, and he found a recipe online for a yellow curry with sweet potatoes that sounds like it might be similar to a dish he really enjoys from their local Thai place. Connor’s kind of excited about the idea of a homemade version, and Evan’s volunteered to help, so they’re getting everything prepared together.

 

Evan’s peeled sweet potatoes and is chopping them into chunks, and Connor’s carefully following the recipe to get the spice blend together and opening a can of coconut cream and when they finally have all the ingredients in the slow cooker, Evan casually asks how long it’s going to take, and Connor tells him at least 4 hours.

 

“Alright,” says Evan, his eyes warm and soft, and he leans in to kiss Connor, and Connor lets himself melt into it. They kiss for a while, slow and unhurried like they’ve become accustomed to since they finally faced their feelings, and then Evan pulls away and smiles at him. “Can I take you to bed?”

 

Connor’s throat dries up instantly. “Are you sure? I… are you sure you’ll be okay?”

 

Evan responds by pressing a kiss to Connor’s neck, and Connor shivers a little at the sensation, because as much as he loves Evan, loves having him around, loves spending time with him and kissing him and having him in his bed for non-sex related reasons, Connor has missed this.

 

A lot.

 

“Yes,” says Evan in Connor’s ear. “I am completely, one hundred percent sure.”

 

He looks at Evan carefully, searching his face for any trace of hesitation and finding none. His heart starts to beat a little faster, he can feel his breath start to catch in his throat, and Evan is just looking at him with so much love and so much certainty and...

 

“Okay,” says Connor, and pulls Evan closer to him, kisses him hard and he feels warm all over, overwhelmed with how much he wants this, and Evan’s stroking him through his jeans and he’s hard immediately and fuck. Fuck.

 

Connor pulls away for a moment and looks Evan in the eye. “I love you,” he says, slowly and deliberately. Connor works off Evan’s shirt and lets Evan pull off his and then they’re shirtless and breathless in the kitchen, and Connor has half a mind to just drop to his knees and blow Evan right then and there, but then Evan takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom, pushes him against the bed and starts working off his pants.

 

“You are so beautiful,” Evan murmurs, pressing kisses down Connor’s thighs as he takes off his pants, and Connor shudders under his touch, and it’s so good and it feels so good to have Evan touching him, and all of a sudden Evan’s mouth is on his cock and he gasps audibly, running his hand through Evan’s hair and playing with it gently, losing himself in the feeling.                

 

“Fuck,” Connor gasps. “Evan, oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this, I love you so much, I-”

 

Evan pulls away to kiss Connor’s hips, then kisses his way up Connor’s body slowly and leisurely, like he has all the time in the world, and Connor is going to lose his fucking mind.

 

Evan kisses him hard, and Connor can’t help it, he has to flip Evan over and take off his pants because there’s no way he can be the only one who’s naked here, and he can’t figure out what he wants to do first, if he wants to suck Evan’s cock or he wants to ask if he can fuck him or tie him up and they’ve done so many different things in bed but Connor thinks whatever it is they’re doing today is still his favorite because he just loves Evan so fucking much.

 

When they’re both naked, they make out for a while, and Connor wraps his hand around Evan’s cock and strokes it and Evan gasps and swears and then Evan pins Connor down by his wrists and straddles him.

 

“I want to fuck you,” Evan says, breathlessly. “Can I?”

 

“Yes,” Connor groans. “Fuck, yes, please.”

 

Evan smiles and fumbles around in Connor’s dresser for supplies and soon he’s pushing a lube-slick finger into Connor, slowly slowly slowly, and Connor gasps at the sensation because it’s been too long, it’s been too fucking long since Evan was inside him and he wants this, he needs this, and Evan kisses his neck as he fingers him.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” Evan whispers. “You’re so fucking beautiful, I want you to feel good, I want to hear you moan for me, can you do that?”

 

Connor absolutely can. In fact, he can’t really do much of anything else right now. “Feels so good,” he manages to gasp out. “Fuck, Evan, I missed this, I missed you, I-”

 

“Me too,” says Evan, his voice a little shaky. “I just love you so much.”

 

Evan pulls his fingers out, and Connor kisses him fiercely as he fumbles with the condom wrapper and he drops it a few times and then starts laughing, and Connor laughs, too, then takes the condom wrapper and opens it and takes a moment to stroke Evan’s cock before Evan puts the condom on carefully, then Evan gently pushes Connor back against the bed and spreads his legs and enters him, slowly slowly slowly.

 

“Fuck,” Connor says, moans, gasps, and Evan is moving so slowly, and he’s looking at him with those same dark, burning eyes that Connor knows and loves, except there’s so much more there, there’s _so much more,_ and it’s like Evan had been holding himself back but now it’s all there in his eyes, everything he feels for Connor, and it’s overwhelming. And Evan’s known for so much longer than he has. Evan spent nearly a year not knowing if Connor felt the same way and Connor has to make sure that he _knows now,_ has to make sure that Evan doesn’t have any doubts in his mind as to how much Connor loves him. “I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

 

Evan thrusts harder and kisses Connor, panting a little. “I love you,” he says, and the words fall from his mouth like they’re easy, like they’ve always been right there and Evan’s just been fighting them back, and Connor has to kiss him again, he just has to, and as Evan picks up the pace Connor matches it as best he can, rolling his hips the way he knows Evan likes, moaning Evan’s name, wrapping his hand around his own cock and stroking himself and letting himself drown in this feeling.

 

“Evan,” Connor moans, and Evan’s fucking him harder now, and his eyes are closed and his face and chest are flushed and he is so fucking beautiful and Connor should have realized so much sooner, he should have _known,_ he was an idiot for not realizing just how stupidly in love he is. “Evan, oh my god, I love you so much.”

 

“Mine,” Evan gasps, kissing Connor’s neck possessively as he fucks him even harder, and Connor is going to lose his mind. “You’re mine, I can’t believe you’re mine, I love you so so much, you’re so beautiful-” and Connor cuts him off with a fierce kiss and Evan moans against him and his hips are moving faster and faster and faster and then he’s coming hard and he’s so fucking amazing.

 

Connor’s not far behind him, all coherent thought disappearing from his mind as he just lets the orgasm roll over him, and then Evan’s all but collapsing on top of him, and he’s trembling.

 

“Fuck,” Evan says, pulling out of Connor, still trembling, and he’s still breathing heavily and this is usually the part where they high five and thank each other for the sex and weirdly bro it out, but this time it’s different, and Connor pulls Evan close to him and Evan buries his head in Connor’s neck and lets out a contented sigh and this…

 

This is perfect.

 

“I love you,” Connor says, kissing the top of Evan’s head. “Thanks for the sex.”

 

Evan laughs, and it’s a weird sensation against Connor’s neck, but he likes it. “High five?” he says, rolling back a bit so he can look Connor in the eye.

 

Connor kisses him instead. Slow and soft and unhurried. “I _am_ yours,” he says quietly. “You know that, right?”

 

“And I’m yours,” Evan replies instantly, and it’s fucking cheesy and Connor kind of wants to hate what a romantic sap he has apparently become but he can’t bring himself to care.

 

* * *

Having ripped the metaphorical first-time bandaid off, Evan found himself caught up in what could only really be described as a sex marathon over the next week. But it was nothing like January, where they were mostly fucking for warmth and Evan was repressing his feelings so hard that it left bruises on Connor’s hips and wrists.

This was a lot different. A lot.

To start, Evan wasn’t trying to shove down his feelings anymore. In fact, his feelings seemed to just make things better. If he told Connor he loved him, Connor’s cheeks would flush this beautiful red, he’d often kiss Evan deeper or longer, he’d hold onto him tighter and it just… made Evan feel so much happier, so much better.

Things weren’t always intense. They laughed a lot, a lot more than Evan had ever laughed with someone during sex and it didn’t feel weird or like Connor was laughing at Evan at all. It just felt… normal. Natural. Like the time when they hadn’t properly closed Connor’s bedroom door and Evan had been going down on Connor, his head between his legs and his hand on Connor’s cock and suddenly Edgar Allan Paw jumped up on the bed and subsequently on Evan’s bare ass which scared the crap out of him and startled the cat and the whole thing resulted in Evan and Connor clutching each other, tears in their eyes, from laughing so hard.

It also taught them a valuable lesson about shutting doors properly.

Or the time that Connor insisted he learn how to open a condom wrapper with his teeth that resulted in three wasted condoms because Connor just couldn’t manage not to rip them with his teeth and then a very real discussion if they even really _needed_ condoms (they agreed that they both just preferred them as they expedited clean up for whoever bottomed (usually Connor)). And it just… worked, lying there beside Connor, both of them naked and hard and breathless from laughter while Connor tried and failed not to fucking destroy a condom with his apparently very sharp eye teeth.

“No, okay,” Evan said, sitting up again. “You’ve got to make sure you push it totally to the side in the wrapper.” He took the condom out of Connor’s hand gently, demonstrating pushing it totally to the side in the wrapper.

“I thought I was!” Connor said, still smiling. “I guess this is just gonna have to be your party trick.”

“Oh you want me to to do this at parties?” Evan asked, eyebrows up. He leaned over and kissed Connor. He kissed his way down Connor’s body, paying special attention to his nipples and then his belly button, which caused Connor’s hips to buck and also made him laugh softly and murmur that it tickled. Evan kept kissing him, every piece of skin he could reach, a kiss to the bottom of his ribcage, another to his hip bone which made Connor gasp. Another kiss, soft and gentle, to Connor’s wrist, in the space between the heel of his hand and the tattoo of a raven he had had since Evan had known him properly. That also made Connor gasp, but it was different, it was a gasp of surprise not one of lust and need.

But Evan liked those too, so he pressed another, wetter kiss to Connor’s hip. And another at the top of his pubic bone. And then another at the base of his cock, his mouth traveling up Connor’s length and taking him into his mouth and Connor moaned, his hand automatically finding its way into Evan’s hair. “Fuck, you are so good at that,” Connor groaned as Evan blew him. “Fuck I love you I love your mouth oh my god.”

“Do you want me to do that at parties too?” He asked cheekily and Connor rolled his eyes and laughed some more. Evan pulled himself up to kiss Connor again, their bodies pressed against each other and Evan’s cock brushed Connor’s ever so slightly and both of them held still for a moment, relishing in that. Evan kissed Connor’s mouth and then his neck which always made Connor shiver and was so fucking sexy he could hardly stand it. His lips traveled up the side of Connor’s neck, to his ear, his adorable goofy ear, and he gently nipped at it and immediately Connor’s skin under his hands erupted in goosebumps, and Connor sighed. “I want to make you feel good,” Evan said softly in Connor’s ear, which only made him writhe and squirm more. “What do you want?”

Connor kissed him, hard, and then pulled away and his eyes were dark and pupils were wide and he said, “Will you please fuck me?”

Evan smiled so hard and kissed him again, taking his time so that Connor was well and properly kissed, his hand gently stroking Connor as he did because he loved touching him so much. Then Evan released Connor’s cock, and retrieved the lube from where it had been abandoned on the pillows earlier and poured a generous amount onto his fingers. He kissed Connor again and again, softly, gently, and then pressed the tip of his finger against Connor’s hole. Connor hissed but then enthusiastically kissed Evan, asking him to please keep going and so he did, working one finger inside of Connor. Connor moaned, a low and deeply sexy sound, his eyes fluttering closed. “You are, like, seriously skilled with your hands.”

Evan felt his face heat up. “Thanks? I guess I had a lot of practice?”

Connor laughed. “I guess being bi is sort of like being ambidextrous.” He smiled again.

“Don’t -” Evan warned.

“Ambi _sex_ trous,” Connor said, far too pleased with himself and Evan groaned at the terrible joke and focused instead on fucking Connor with his fingers so he couldn’t make any other dumb puns. It seemed to work, because as Evan worked him open, Connor moaned a little breathlessly, and then he gasped when Evan added in a third finger, whining a little. “Fuck, Evan,” he said breathlessly.

“You doing okay?” Evan asked.

Connor nodded, his eyes closing, his face slack. “Yes yes I’m great.”

“Good,” Evan said, and then his put his mouth on Connor’s cock again, using his tongue to trace the tip, lick up the underside, suck at the crown, and then he took as much of him as he could manage, blowing him and matching the rhythm of his fingers and Connor was moaning and pulling on Evan’s hair and half of Evan wanted to see if he could make him come like this, if he could just revel in making Connor feel good but then Connor’s tugged on his hair got more insistent and he was pleading, begging Evan to fuck him.

There was no way he could say no. He let Connor’s hard cock slip from his lips and then slowly and gently pulled his fingers out of him. “Of course I’ll fuck you,” He said, kissing Connor’s hip. “Of course.”

Connor smiled at him and Evan retrieved the last condom on the bed that hadn’t been massacred by Connor’s teeth. “Okay, so I’m gonna show you again,” Evan said, grinning. “Can you pay attention this time?”

“Evan,” Connor panted, whined.

“So you move the condom in the wrapper, like so,” Evan said, still smiling. He demonstrated, pulling it all of way toward the side. “Then you take your teeth in the opposite corner,” He said, and then he took the corner of the condom wrapper in his teeth. “And you pull.” He pulled on the wrapper, and the plastic came away easily. Evan used his lube free hand to take it and roll it onto himself, liking the way Connor was watching him hungrily, and then he took a little more lube and rubbed it over himself, and settled between Connor’s legs. He kissed him again, long and slow and Connor’s short nails were digging into his back a little and Evan loved it. He grabbed Connor’s hips, pulling him closer, and pushing inside of him, slowly, loving the way Connor groaned and sunk his teeth into the skin of Evan’s shoulder. Once he was fully buried inside of Connor, he kissed his jawline, his neck, murmuring, “You good?”

“Yes,” Connor said. “So good.”

“Okay,” Evan said, and he kissed Connor’s lips again and began to move his hips, and Connor groaned, and his eyebrows knit together sometimes when they had sex and Evan always thought that was cute, that was something, but he never let himself just watch Connor’s face while they did this because that was probably too much, too weird. But now? He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Connor looked so good. His head was thrown back, brows knitted together, and he was biting on his lip every couple of thrusts, and Evan liked that. A lot. And he adjusted his angle, fucking Connor so every move made him bite his lip that way, until every thrust undid him a little more and he was moaning beautifully and normally, honestly, they talked more but this was nice too. Just getting lost in this moment, with Connor.

Connor pulled him in for a kiss, and he rolled his hip this way that drove Evan wild, really

fucking did it for him and he realized Connor was smiling, like he had planned that, rolling his hips to meet each of Evan’s thrusts and Evan found Connor’s hand in the sheets, their fingers lacing together and Connor’s eyes slipping closed as Evan increased his pace, fucked him harder and faster, and Connor’s other hand was between them, stroking his cock and he was so gorgeous like this, he was so beautiful.

And then Connor’s eyes were closing tightly, his mouth open, jaw slack and he moaned loudly and he was coming, streaks landing between then, and his muscles got so tight around Evan, almost painfully tight, and he gasped “I love you” and that sent Evan over the edge too. He came hard, and slowly slowly rode out his orgasm, still inside Connor until they were both spent.

After Evan had cleaned them both up a little, he pulled Connor close to him and buried his face and Connor’s neck and Connor sighed contently and kissed the top of Evan’s head and it was really fucking nice. “I love you so much,” He said softly.

“I love you too. That was… really great.”

“You’re really great.”

“We’re so gross,” Connor said with a smile.

“I know.”

“I kind of love it.”

“Me too.”

It was sort of silly, really. It wasn’t like they weren’t having sex before. And it wasn’t like it had been bad before. Not by any measure.

It was just better now.

It took some of the frantic, desperate energy out of things. Like nobody was afraid that it might be the last time anymore.

Evan wouldn’t have categorized Connor or himself as being shy around each other before either, but now that they were together, everything just felt more relaxed. They had lazy sex, and quick how-fast-can-we-get-off sex. They had sex that stretched on for hours. Hours and hours and hours until they realized they had spent an entire day in bed, doing nothing but sleep and snuggle and fuck.

Evan loved being able to bury his head in Connor’s neck after they finished, just letting his body come down, getting to breathe Connor in and hold him and notice new things about him that he never let himself pay attention to before because it would have been inappropriate for a fuck buddy.

Connor had a freckle behind his ear, for example, something that Evan paid attention to for the first time on dreary Sunday where they both seemed to realize there was very little point in getting out of bed. Evan had pressed his lips softly against that spot and felt Connor shiver.

“You okay?”

“I… that’s nice.” His cheeks had gone pink, and Connor bit his lip. Evan loved him like this. His hair messy, wearing Evan’s law school t-shirt because they had swapped sleep shirts last night after they got distracted on their way to bed to sleep. He looked well rested and relaxed. Evan had noticed the freckle when Connor had turned over to let Evan spoon him.

Evan kissed him there again, and Connor tilted his neck slightly, arching into it. He said softly, “You have a freckle there, I’d never noticed it before. It’s really cute.” He kissed Connor again, letting his lips linger a little, and Connor sighed. Evan kissed him below that spot. He kissed the shell of Connor’s ear, and he could feel Connor break out into goosebumps and he gasped as Evan gently gently gently ran his teeth over the ear lobe. Connor’s eyes slipped closed and he sighed.

He kissed Connor’s cheek. He gently brushed Connor’s hair away. Then Evan kissed him under his jaw, just where it met his neck, kissing wetter, softer kissed down the side of his neck and Connor’s breathing changed. Got deeper. Louder. Evan loved Connor’s neck. It was so long, the skin so soft and so sensitive. He kissed Connor’s neck again, this time using his teeth, just a little and Connor took a sharp breath he turned over to face him and pulled Evan’s mouth to his urgently, kissing him like he needed it, like that kiss was oxygen and Evan knew that feeling all too well. They broke apart, both a little breathless, and Connor smiled at Evan, this soft warm smile that made Evan feel like he was the only person in the whole world, made him feel special and wanted and loved.

Their lips brushed together softly, and Evan’s hands grew tired of being idle. He moved them gently up Connor’s sides, fingers ghosting up his rib cage before setting on Connor’s hips and pulling until Connor was on top of Evan, their legs tangled together. Evan really liked feeling the weight of Connor on top of him. Connor used his leg to part Evan’s slightly, pressing his thigh against Evan’s crotch, and Evan groaned as Connor ground his hips against Evan’s, making Evan gasp and causing him to get very hard very quickly.

“Can I take this off?” Evan asked, edging up the bottom of the shirt Connor wore.

Connor nodded and he pushed himself up slightly while Evan tugged the shirt up and over Connor’s head. Connor pulled it off over his arms one at a time, tossing it to the side of the bed. Free from the shirt, Connor smiled and kissed Evan again. “God Connor you’re so beautiful,” He said, and Connor was blushing, genuinely blushing. “I love you so much.” Evan took advantage of all of the newly exposed skin, gently running his hands down Connor’s back, kissing his shoulders and collarbone and chest and Connor whine and his hips bucked slightly as Evan bit down gently on one of Connor’s nipples.

Connor responded by pulling at the collar of the shirt Evan was wearing, kissing Evan’s collarbone, and that was definitely his weak spot, definitely the place that made him go all soft and pliant and Connor knew it, his tongue swiping across it, his teeth sinking into the skin there, making Evan mumble, “Fuck.”

“Oh you like that?”

“You know I do,” Evan said breathlessly.

“Yeah, but I like to hear you say it too.”

Evan kissed him harder, his arms wrapping tightly around Connor. “I like that. I _really_ like that.”

“I love you,” Connor said. He was pulling at the hem of Evan’s shirt and Evan playfully rolled over so he was on top and Connor smiled and laughed.  Evan pulled the shirt of swiftly, diving back down for a kiss, revelling in the feeling of his skin on Connor’s, their stomachs touching and arms tangled and they were both all hands and mouths. With Connor pinned beneath him, Evan ground their hips together and kissed Connor’s neck and his ear and Connor was gasping and Evan could feel how hard he was through his pajama pants but he didn’t cup him or make moves to get him out of his pants, instead just focusing on his neck and his ears and his mouth, lavishing them with attention, loving that he got to kiss Connor like this, that he could pause and press a kiss to his temple or whisper “I love you so much” in Connor’s ear if he wanted to now.

They made out for a good long while, Connor definitely leaving marks along Evan’s collarbone, making him go weak a few times. Evan kissed Connor’s lips, mumbling that he thought Connor might run off with his collarbone.

“It’s a sexy collarbone,” Connor said, kissing it again. “But it’s sexier attached to you.”

God that was just so dorky and weird and Evan loved him so much. Just. So much.

Eventually the friction Evan was getting from pressing his cock against Connor’s through his sweats just wasn’t enough, and he breathlessly asked Connor if he could touch him and Connor groaned that he thought Evan would never ask. They parted just for a moment so Evan could step out of his pants and boxers and pull Connor’s off. Once naked, Evan pulled Connor close, their bodies flush together, and kissed him. “You are so gorgeous,” Connor mumbled, “Fuck.”

Evan felt his heart leap at the words. He kissed Connor again, then said, his voice low and rough, “Wanna make you feel good. Can I touch you? Please?”

Connor groaned and then kissed Evan enthusiastically, so Evan took that as consent to wrap his hand around Connor’s cock and stroke him. Connor’s eyes squeezed closed and he kissed Evan harder, his tongue deep in Evan’s mouth, claiming him.

Damn, that was so fucking hot.

Evan pushed Connor gently back against the mattress and kissed his way down his body, stopping where Connor’s pubic hair began and kissing the skin there, enjoying it as Connor swore and his hips bucked and Evan traced Connor’s hipbone with his tongue and then finally, finally took Connor’s cock in his mouth. Connor moaned, almost like he was relieved to feel Evan’s mouth there, his lips wrapping around the head of Connor’s cock, and Connor moaned like he had been waiting weeks, months even for Evan to finally touch him.

Part of Evan wanted to just keep blowing Connor, because Connor’s body relaxed and his sank back into the mattress, hands tangled in his own hair… but he wanted more. He wanted Connor moaning and panting and begging for release, so Evan let Connor’s cock slip heavily out of his mouth, kissing his way back down the shaft. Over Connor’s balls, and Evan stopped to take each one briefly into his mouth which made Connor moan lowly. He kissed his way over Connor’s perineum and then he nudged Connor’s legs apart, taking a moment to take in the sight of his tight pink hole.

“This okay?” Evan asked roughly, licking his lips.

“Yes,” Connor said breathlessly. Evan smiled. He kissed Connor’s inner thighs and then pushed his legs open wider, before setting between them to kiss Connor’s ass, his tongue gently brushing over it, his lips moving against it and Connor whined, and Evan could feel his whole body tense up and then relax again as Evan licked Connor more broadly. He really really liked eating Connor out. He liked that Connor let him do this, let himself be vulnerable and trust Evan to make him feel good. He liked that Connor got a little desperate after a while, that he’d start to writhe beneath Evan’s tongue and beg helplessly for more more more.

Evan pushed his tongue inside of Connor and he felt Connor still for just a moment before a low, loud moan erupted from him, Connor saying, “Holy fuck Evan fuck.” Evan loved it when Connor said his name. He kept licking him, fucking Connor’s ass with his tongue, and Connor started to try to press himself closer to Evan to get more of him and fuck that was a compliment if there ever was one. Evan pressed the tip of a finger in, and then paused, looking up at Connor for the okay. Connor nodded frantically and fuck, he was really really enjoying this, so Evan pressed in more of his finger while still using his tongue, getting Connor’s hole slick with spit. Connor groaned, begging, “More Evan more.” He pressed in a second finger and Connor stilled for just a moment before he moaned and his hips bucked up.

“You’re so hot like this,” Evan said, pulling away, and Connor whined at the absence of his mouth. “What do you need?”

“Fuck me,” Connor said. “Please. Fuck, I need you inside me, fucking hell.”

Evan did not need to be told twice. He pulled away just for a moment to fetch the lube and a condom from Connor’s drawer. He withdrew his fingers from inside Connor for just a moment to add lube and then re-inserted them, fingering him again. Connor gasped and groaned a few times, his eyes closing and his nose bunching up and he breathlessly said, “You’re going to make me come if you keep that up.”

Evan would love to be able to do that with just his fingers, and if not for his own aching cock and Connor’s request to be fucked, he might have tried for it. Another time, they had a lot of time. Evan pulled out his fingers, taking a brief pause to roll the condom over his cock and he took a moment to take in Connor’s blown pupils and parted legs and flushed pink chest and marveled at how he had gotten so lucky.

“I really love you,” He blurted out. “You know that right? I really really love you.”

Connor looked at him, his whole expression softening. “I do. And I love you too. So fucking much.” He kissed Evan softly. “But if you don’t fuck me soon I am going to absolutely lose my mind, oh my god.”

“Fair enough,” Evan groaned, grabbing Connor’s hips and pulling him toward him. He pushed inside and fuck that was so good, so hot, heat and tightness all around his cock and Connor threw his head back, eyes flickering closed.

“I love you so much,” Connor said, rolling his hips to meet Evan’s next thrust. “I love you… so much it’s kind of stupid, fuck, you’re just so amazing.”

Evan smiled, flattered. “You’re amazing too you know,” he said, kissing Connor’s neck again, tasting salt from his sweat. “You’re brilliant and talented and fucking amazing.”

Connor smiled contentedly, his hand reaching up and tangling in Evan’s now sweaty hair. They fucked for a long long time, full of pent up energy and desperately trying to use up all of it. Evan loved every second of it, every gasp and groan and sigh, and Connor was so fucking beautiful, fisting his cock with his hair sticking to his rosy skin and when Connor came, he was even more beautiful, his lips parting and panting, “Evan oh god oh god” and it was so hot to watch as come streaked across his chest and his eyes fluttered shut. Evan picked up his pace, fucking Connor faster and deeper and then he was finally spilling over the edge, coming hard and burying himself inside Connor while he did.

Slowly and gingerly, having gotten his breath back a little, Evan pulled out of Connor. He threw out the condom and then hurried, his knees still a little weak, to get a warm washcloth to clean up the mess of come decorating Connor’s chest. When he returned he cleaned up Connor with gentle hands and then climbed back into bed with him, pulling the covers up over them both and pulling Connor against him, his face buried in Connor’s neck. Connor sighed contentedly then said, laughing at little, “How did you get better at sex?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

Connor laughed again. “You’re just... The best. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Evan said, pulling him closer. “So fucking much.”

* * *

 

As November continues, Connor gets a call from his mom, asking if he wants her to book him a flight home for Thanksgiving. Connor hadn’t even thought about it so has to take a moment to think, then apologizes and admits he doesn’t think he’ll be able to make it this year. Not only does he have Black Friday to worry about but there’s also Edgar to consider, who’s due for a check-up the week before Thanksgiving. If he’s put on enough weight, he’ll end up getting neutered at the appointment, and Connor can’t exactly plan to leave town if he’s got a kitten recovering from surgery.

 

He’s a little sad he’ll miss seeing his mom, but at least he won’t have to deal with his dad again this year. Not that he’s heard from his dad since the email just after the store opened.

 

When Connor asks Evan what his plans are for Thanksgiving later that night, Evan seems taken aback. When he asks Evan what he’s doing for Thanksgiving, he seems surprised. “My mom is coming to visit,” he says, frowning a little. “Did I not tell you?”

 

“You might have,” Connor admits, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Sorry.”

 

Evan blinks once, then looks at Connor, his expression cautious. “Are you going to your mom’s?”

 

“No,” Connor says, shaking his head. “Not this year.”

 

“Have Thanksgiving with us,” Evan says immediately. “Alex is cooking, she and Mattie have Thanksgiving off as well.”

 

Connor feels something twist inside him. “I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

 

“I want you there,” Evan interrupts, smiling softly. He laughs a little. “I thought I’d already invited you, oh my god - Mom said she was looking forward to properly meeting my boyfriend.”

 

“I’ve met your mom a bunch of times,” Connor points out.

 

Evan rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Try telling her that.”

 

Connor nods. Smiles. Takes Evan’s hand and kisses it gently. “Okay,” he says after a moment. “Thanksgiving with you and your mom and your roommates. Can I bring something?”

 

“I think Alex has it under control,” Evan assures him.

 

“I could bring dessert?” Connor offers.

 

Evan smiles. “Sure. That sounds nice.”

 

It’s only after Evan goes home that night that Connor admits to himself that he has no idea how to make dessert. He’s figured out the slow cooker, sure, but… dessert? Not so much.

 

Still, he’s said he’s bringing dessert, so he’s going to have to figure it out.

 

He’ll have to get in touch with someone who knows their way around a kitchen.

 

Connor’s vaguely surprised when he texts Andi and she actually texts him back within minutes. She’s not usually that prompt. At all. She’s also not someone who communicates particularly well via text, as her spelling is absolutely atrocious, so Connor ends up just giving her a call.

 

“Connor!” Andi exclaims as soon as she picks up the call. “Babe, I’ve missed you. What’s going on?”

 

“I was actually wondering if you had any really idiot-proof recipes,” he asks, a little awkwardly. “For, like, a dessert? For Thanksgiving.”

 

Connor really wants to contribute.

 

He also kinda wants to impress Heidi.

 

Connor’s never had a boyfriend before and he’s definitely never done the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing. Despite having met Heidi multiple times, it’s going to be different this time, now that he’s properly Evan’s boyfriend.

 

This time he’ll make sure he’s wearing pants.

 

“Oh man, do I!” says Andi enthusiastically. “Okay, so. I’ll text you some ideas. Just pick one, and I’ll come over and make it with you as like, a trial run. Are you still working Monday to Friday?”

 

“Monday to Thursday, actually,” Connor says. “I usually do admin only on Fridays, but if you wanted to come around on Friday, I could make some time?”

 

“That sounds awesome,” Andi says cheerfully. “I’ll see you then!”

 

Andi shows up at 9am on Friday morning, armed with a big canvas bag full of ingredients. When Connor comes down to let her in, she pulls him into a firm hug the minute she’s close enough.

 

“It’s so good to see you, Connor!” She pulls back and looks at him, her gaze assessing him. “Babe. You’re too skinny.”

 

Connor doesn’t want to explain that he kind of spent a few months consistently forgetting to eat and despite having spent the last month getting into much better habits, it still shows. Instead, he ushers her upstairs and they both take a seat at the kitchen table.

 

“I ran into Zoe at a party in late September,” Andi says, her expression growing somber. “She said you weren’t doing so great.”

 

“Yeah,” Connor admits, trying not to let Andi see that he’s gone red with embarrassment. “It was, uh… I had a rough time. But I’m doing better.”

 

“She was worried,” Andi says, her voice soft. “But she also said that you and Evan had finally gotten your shit together, so… I figured I’d wait a bit to get in touch and check in. I didn’t want to overwhelm you, I know I’m… I’m a lot.”

 

“You are the perfect amount,” Connor replies immediately. “But yeah, everything was… hard, for a while.” He sighs a little. “I, uh… I let a lot of things go. I’m still kind of… getting used to things, you know? But it’s good. It’s really good.” He smiles. “Evan is good, too. More than good. He’s… fuck, he’s so amazing, Andi, I love him so much.”

 

Andi grins, this big wide grin. “I’m so glad,” she says, reaching out and grabbing his hand. She squeezes it gently. Then she lets go and gestures to the bag. “Okay. So. I brought ingredients for an apple pie and also a chocolate cheesecake? They’re both really good, and pretty easy.”

 

“I feel like making a pie can’t possibly be easy,” Connor says frankly.

 

“If you made your own pie crust, then yeah,” Andi admits. “And I usually do. But you can buy premade pie crust and no one will judge you.” She starts pulling things out of the bag. “Also, I got you some pie dishes to cook in because I figured you didn’t have any. Happy birthday.”

 

“My birthday is in February.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

Connor makes a pot of coffee and Andi starts looking around the apartment, seemingly deciding that she’s going to give herself a tour. Once the coffee’s ready, Connor pours them both a mug full each and adds some almond milk (he’s gotten used to it and now very rarely bothers to get regular milk). He sits down at the table again and feels something soft rubbing against his ankle, then looks down to see Edgar Allan Paw demanding attention.

 

“Hey little guy,” says Connor with a smile, then reaches down to scoop up the kitten. Edgar’s a little bigger than when he first found him, but not much. He meows quietly in the crook of Connor’s elbow, then climbs up his arm to perch on his shoulder and looks at Andi with interest.

 

“Oh my fucking god,” Andi says, her eyes lighting up. “Connor, oh my fucking god, when did you get a cat?”

 

“This is Edgar Allan Paw,” Connor says proudly. “I found him in an alleyway back in October and brought him home. We think he’s about four months old? Isn’t he great?”

 

Andi reaches over to pet the cat and she lets out a squeal of delight. “Oh my god, he’s so soft, Connor.” She looks at Connor and sighs. “Babe, if you’d told me you had a cat, I would have gotten some catnip!”

 

Connor laughs. “Oh my god.”

 

“I brought weed,” Andi says, a little forlornly. “He’s gonna miss out on getting high with us. Poor little guy.”

 

“I don’t know how I feel about you getting my cat high, Andi,” Connor says, looking up at Edgar who is perfectly happy on his shoulder. “He’s just a baby.”

 

“He deserves to have a good time,” Andi says, scratching the cat under his chin. Edgar closes his eyes and meows happily.

 

“Andi. You’re not getting my cat high.”

 

Andi pulls out her phone, hooks it up to Connor’s Bluetooth speaker and starts blasting out David Bowie, swaying her hips enthusiastically as she starts getting everything together to make an apple pie. It takes most of the morning, but Andi takes Connor step by step through the process of making the filling and cutting the pie-crust and pre-baking it and he writes the whole process down, step-by-step, so he has a shot of replicating this closer to Thanksgiving.

 

Once the apple pie is in the oven, Andi rolls a joint and turns up the volume and starts full on dancing in Connor’s kitchen. Edgar watches with interest and after a minute, Andi rolls down and picks up the kitten. He crawls up onto her shoulder and hangs on for dear life as Andi gets her groove on.

 

It’s kind of hilarious to watch.

 

After a while, Connor can see that Edgar wants to get down but he’s a little too hesitant to jump from so high up, so he reaches out and scoops him up, then lets him down.

 

Then Connor finds himself yawning and Andi immediately stops dancing.

 

“Dude,” she says, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Go have a nap. Just let me grab something off your bookshelf, I’ll hang out in your living room for a bit.”

 

“Are you sure?” Connor asks, because he’s kind of embarrassed that he’s still so exhausted all the time. He’s been feeling a bit better the last few weeks, he has to admit, but for some reason it’s catching up with him now.

 

Andi turns off the music, then pulls Connor into a hug. “I’m just glad to see you,” she says honestly. “Glad to hang out with you. Tell you what - you have a nap, and I’ll go grab some ingredients and make you some garlic bread.”

 

Edgar ends up accompanying Connor into his room when he goes for a nap and curls up with him in bed as he goes to sleep. He wakes up to the sound of someone knocking on his front door. Connor gets up and heads to the front door, only to see that Andi’s opened the door and is talking to Maureen.

 

Andi is, unsurprisingly, topless, and Maureen is bright red and trying not to stare.

 

“Andi,” Connor says wearily. “You can’t just run around my apartment topless, for fuck’s sake.”

 

“I’m sorry!” Maureen squeaks. “I just wanted to ask if you knew when we were getting those Terry Pratchett books in. Is it Tuesday or Thursday?”

 

“Tuesday,” Connor says, sighing. “Fuck, Maureen, you don’t have to be sorry.” He looks at Andi. “Could you at least wear a bra?”

 

“I didn’t wear a bra here.”

 

“Then put your shirt back on. Oh my god.”

 

“Spoilsport,” says Andi mildly, then winks at Maureen and heads to the living room where she’s obviously left her shirt.

 

Maureen watches her go, still bright red. “Who’s that?”

 

“My old roommate,” Connor explains.

 

“She seems nice.”

 

Connor grins. “I’ll get her to say hi on her way out,” he promises.

 

Andi comes back after Maureen leaves, tits safely contained, and they eat pineapple slices and granola because the garlic bread isn’t ready. Then it’s time to get into the chocolate cheesecake. Andi shows him how to make the crust out of Oreos and make the cheesecake filling and Connor has to admit, this is pretty straightforward. He feels like he can’t go too wrong with this. Once it’s done, they put it in the fridge to chill and the garlic bread is ready and they sit in the living room and eat it, Andi rolling up a joint and lighting it.

 

They end up eating and smoking and talking for the rest of the afternoon, taking the time to catch up and relax. It’s nice, Connor, thinks. He’s missed Andi. He really has.

 

“Oh my god,” Andi says suddenly out of nowhere. She whacks Connor on the arm, a little harder than he thinks she means to.

 

“Hey!”

 

“You dick,” Andi says with a laugh. “I can’t believe I set you up with a nice boy and you ghosted him, what the actual fuck.”

 

“You’ve already yelled at me about this,” Connor says with a roll of his eyes. “At that… weird theatre thing.” He laughs at the memory. “Pretty sure I tried to hide from Parker behind a giant trash can, oh my god.”

 

“It didn’t work,” Andi giggles. “He saw you.”

 

“Oh fuck.”

 

“And he saw you had Evan with you,” Andi continues, still laughing, “and the next time I saw him he was like ‘that was Connor’s friend Evan, right? The one who’s a lawyer?’”

 

“Wait, what?” Connor blinks, because he’s kind of high, but that doesn’t make any kind of sense. “I didn’t introduce him or whatever. I didn’t even talk to him.”

 

“You didn’t stop talking about your lawyer friend Evan that entire date,” Andi says, and she’s laughing harder now. “He told me all about it. How you kept just… telling stories about your friend Evan who was so smart and so passionate and was going to save the world and was just totally brilliant and gave you all this free legal help and was just so amazing.”

 

“I did?” Connor asks. “Oh my god.” He can’t help it, he has to laugh.

 

Andi is practically gasping for breath now. “Connor, you useless fuck - you didn’t even know, did you?”

 

“Know what?”

 

“It was _always_ Evan,” Andi says with a grin, her laughter settling down a little. “You’re head over heels for Evan. You’ve been head over heels for him for, like, over a year now. A guy you had _one date_ with could tell and he didn’t even _meet_ Evan, oh my god.”

 

“No wonder it didn’t feel right,” Connor muses with a chuckle. “No wonder I didn’t… Parker was really nice and smart and hot but it just didn’t feel right, you know? I just… couldn’t figure out why.”

 

“You’ve figured it out now?” Andi says, and the words have a little more weight than Connor expected.

 

“Yeah,” Connor says softly. “I’ve figured it out now.” He smiles at Andi. “I love him so damn much, Andi. I’ve never… I’ve never felt the way I feel about Evan about anyone, I… I just love him.”

 

There’s a loud meow from the doorway, and Connor and Andi look over to see Evan standing there, backpack slung over his shoulder. He blushes bright pink, then shoots a dirty look at the cat, who is licking his paws innocently at Evan’s feet. “Traitor,” Connor hears Evan mutter.

 

“Evan!” Andi exclaims. “Connor was just telling me how stupidly in love with you he is.”

 

Connor catches Evan’s eye and Evan shoots him this big, sunny smile. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor warmly, and Evan comes over and sits next to him on the sofa and leans in for a kiss.

 

“Gross,” says Andi happily. She stands up, stretches, and bows extravagantly. “Well, my work here is done. Evan, there’s apple pie and chocolate cheesecake, and your boyfriend is stoned. Have a good night - I’m going to give that cutie downstairs my number.”

 

With that, she blows Connor a kiss, picks up her things and heads out.

 

“Andi answered the door topless when Maureen came up to ask a question,” Connor says to Evan.

 

“Of course she did.”

 

“Don’t think Maureen really minded, though.”

 

Evan smiles at him for a long moment. “Hey,” he says softly.

 

“Hey.”

 

“You know I’m stupidly in love with you as well, right?”

 

Connor grins and kisses him again.

 

* * *

Evan was not jealous of a cat, but considering his mom basically rushed out of the car because she wanted to meet Edgar Allan Paw when they arrived at the bookstore, he was… maybe a little jealous. She had demanded to be taken to see Connor and the cat as soon as Evan picked her up from the airport. Evan had definitely pouted, just a little, muttering, “What am I, chopped liver?”

And his mom had hugged him tighter, telling him she would always love him more, but then repeated her interest in meeting the cat so.

He was a little fucking jealous.

“I had no idea you were a cat person,” Evan said, grabbing her duffle bag from the backseat.

“Well, you’re allergic,” His mom said. “That’s why Mittens had to be rehomed when you little. But I’ve always loved cats.”

“I’m, like, barely allergic,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. “I just can’t, like, pet Edgar and then rub my eyes.”

“Yeah but your asthma was worse when you were little. Also you hated Mittens because he made you itchy,” His mom said, clearly distracted as she walked into the store. Connor smiled at them from where he was restocking a shelf of travel books. “Connor, hi sweetheart, how are you?” His mom said, hugging Connor tightly.

“I’m good,” Connor said, hugging her back. Evan smiled a bit. His mom liked his boyfriend. That was good, right? That had to be good. “How was your flight?” Connor asked as he pulled away.

“Terrible,” His mom said, shrugging. “But all flights are.”

“Next time I’m booking you a train ticket,” Evan said, smiling. “Then we’ll see how much you hate flying.”

“You will do no such thing,” His mom said. “I’ll buy my own ticket.” She smiled at Connor. “You look good, honey. How’s the store?”

“Good. Really good.”

“I am so glad,” She said and she hugged Connor again. “Now I want to meet this cat Evan told me about.”

As if on cue, little Edgar Allan Paw announced himself, poking his head out from behind the shelf. Evan’s mom knelt down to pet him, gushing that he was “such a beautiful boy” as she scratched behind his ears.

“Your mom likes cats?” Connor asked, smiling a little.

“News to me,” Evan said shrugging. “I knew it was a mistake to post that picture of Edgar on facebook. I was taken in by how cute he was being curled up on my knee.”

“I told you not to put my son on social media,” Connor said smirking. Edgar had rolled over, stretching out his paws and showing Heidi his tummy and she cooed and told him he was a good kitty.

“It really weirds me out when you call the cat your child,” Evan muttered. Connor poked him in the ribs, smiling this massive smile and Evan just _knew_ what was coming. “No, stop it, you’re about to make a daddy joke and then my head will explode off my shoulders and make a mess out of your nice bookstore.”

“Gross,” Connor said with a smirk. “I would _never_ make a daddy joke.”

“I don’t know what those gross boys are talking about,” Evan’s mom said in this really ridiculous baby voice, rubbing Edgar’s belly while he purred loudly. “But I sure hope it’s not sex while Evan’s mama is present, because then I’d have to tease him forever. Isn’t that right baby? Forever and ever.”

Connor looked over at Evan, his face warm and open and asked, “Did you call your mom ‘mama’ when you were little?”

Evan sighed, feeling his face heat up.

“Yes he did,” Heidi said and she was scratching Edgar under the chin now and he was losing his tiny kitten mind, like this was the best thing that had ever happened in his entire life. “And he got into an argument with a boy in his kindergarten class who told him saying ‘mama’ was for babies, and then I had to go to school to have a chat with Ms. Norberry about it, it was so silly Edgar, oh yes it was.”

“Oh my god you’re so damn adorable,” Connor said fondly.

“In my defense, the other kid was _Jared_.”

“Ugh,” Connor commented.

“He was such a little shithead,” Evan’s mom still addressing the cat and speaking in that silly baby voice. “And he grew up to be a big shithead and now it’s very awkward if I run into Rebecca Kleinman because I got wine drunk at the synagogue singles night and told her she had raised an asshole who didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, _yes_ , yes it is.” Heidi rubbed behind Edgar’s ears and he rolled over like he was overwhelmed by it. “Such a beautiful boy, and he just had surgery but he’s so playful and cute awww.”

Connor laughed delightly, watching Evan’s mom totally lose it over this small cat. Edgar seemed to have gotten ahold of himself a little as Heidi pet his head a couple of times, and then he stood up, shook himself and set off trotting over to Evan and rubbing insistently at his ankles. Evan stooped to pet him, and Edgar’s eyes closed and he purred so hard his whole tiny cat body was vibrating. “Hey dude,” he said to Edgar.

“He _loves_ Evan,” Connor told Evan’s mom.

“I don’t get it, I’m not even doing anything,” Evan said awkwardly. His mom laughed at him, which Evan definitely didn’t appreciate. Edgar started to playfully bat at Evan’s tie, one of his claws briefly getting stuck in the fabric, and Evan sighed as he untangled him, “Come on dude, I like this tie.”

“Mrow.”

Evan’s mom was giggling. Straight up giggling.

“Okay, come on,” Connor said, and he scooped the cat out of Evan’s lap. Edgar promptly settled on Connor’s shoulder, closing his eyes happily. When Connor noticed Evan’s mom watching, he smiled saying, “He likes to be tall.”

“Oh my god,” She said, smiling so hard Evan thought she might pull something. “That’s adorable. Can I send a picture to your mom? I feel like she’ll get a kick out of it.” Connor consented to the photo on the grounds that nobody put it on facebook, which Evan thought was especially funny considering that the facebook page for The Little Book Nook probably had about fifteen different Adventures of Edgar Allan Paw posts from this week. Maureen said it had significantly boosted their interactions online in recent weeks.

After Evan’s mom had gotten all of the baby talk and cooing out of her system, she smiled at Connor, confirming he would be at Thanksgiving the next day.

“Yes, I am. I’m uh. Bringing dessert?” His cheeks went a little bit pink.

“You cook?” Evan’s mom asked, her face lighting up.

“A little,” Connor said, going more pink. “Mostly I just make stuff in the slow cooker but… I’m branching out.”

“He’s a good cook,” Evan said, smiling proudly at Connor.

“I love this,” Heidi said grinning at Evan. “I come into town and all of your people here cook for me.”

“Well, I figured that would be better than _me_ trying to do it,” Evan said.

“He makes a good point,” Evan’s mom said. “And this little cutie is coming too, right?” She was scratching Edgar under the chin gently.

Connor confirmed. “He’s just so little still, and since he was just neutered I didn’t want to leave him alone all day.”

“Also Mattie and Alex want to meet him,” Evan added. “Also Edgar is super freaking spoiled.”

“Good, he should be,” Heidi said, smiling. “He’s perfect.”

“I know,” Connor said affectionately. “He’s a good dude.”

Eventually, Evan was able to pull his mother away from fawning over Connor’s cat. She pulled Connor into another tight tight hug, told him she would miss him at the parade the next morning, and kissed his cheek. “Be good, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Your mom is so cute,” Connor said as Evan went to kiss him goodbye.

“I know,” Evan said, smiling a little. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

When they arrived back at Evan’s apartment, Alex was busily chopping celery and carrots and onions, but she dropped her knife and wiped her hands to greet Evan’s mom warmly. “Heidi, hi!” She said, and Evan’s mom pulled her into a hug. “How was your flight?”

“It was alright,” Evan’s mom said, smiling. “Thank you again for having me. And for cooking, wow, it smells really great in here.”

“Just wait until tomorrow,” Alex said grinning. “This is just the beginning. And also I love cooking, so you don’t need to thank me. I’m happy to cook.” Alex insisted on pouring them both a glass of wine after Evan’s mom got settled into Mattie’s bedroom. From what Evan could tell, Mattie slept most nights in Alex’s bedroom these days and she had positively thrown a fit at the idea of either Heidi or Evan sleeping on the sofa.

“I’m shocked you managed to get the time off,” Evan’s mom said. “I know doctors in their residency are extremely busy.”

Alex smiled. “Well, since it’s our last year of residency, things are slightly less intense. Mattie even got tomorrow night off, despite her ambivalence on Thanksgiving.”

Heidi nodded. “Where did you learn to cook?”

Alex smiled softly. “Oh, uh. The last foster mom I was placed with? She owned a little mom and pop place, inherited it from her parents. I was fifteen and wanted a job so I could save up for college, so she had me help around the kitchen a couple of hours on weekends. It kind of became our thing.”

“Do you keep in touch?”

“Cards at Christmas and such. She went on to have her own baby right before I turned eighteen so when I went off to college we sort of drifted.”

Evan noticed his mom’s slight frown. He could practically feel her trying to adopt Alex on the spot. Heidi shifted the conversation, asking Alex to tell her all about what she was doing to prep the food and eventually convincing Alex to let Evan and her help prep some of the food.

“I’m really glad Connor’s got dessert covered,” Alex said as they all worked to peel potatoes (apparently one of Alex’s signature mashed potato tricks was to make them the night before and then just bake them in a casserole dish). “I am useless with desserts. I tried to make Mattie cookies once and instead I made like… a slab of chocolate chip concrete.”

“Not great for the teeth,” Evan said with a nod.

“What's Connor making for dessert?" Evan’s mom asked, smiling slightly.

“You have to be nice, even if it’s really bad,” Evan warned. “But he's making an apple pie and also maybe cheesecake? Though I got to check the trial run for poison and it was pretty good.”

“I’m just impressed,” Heidi said with a smile.

“I… he wants you to like him,” Evan said awkwardly.

“I already do!” His mom said, looking worried. “Does he think I don’t like him?”

Alex smiled. “I’d bet you it’s more the sinking realization that you’re his _boyfriend’s mom._ You know? Gotta impress the mom.”

Heidi smiled. “I suppose I could stand to let him impress me.”

“Do not be mean to my boyfriend just so he works harder to impress you,” Evan said smiling.

“You picked him. I’m already impressed.”

* * *

 

Connor’s up way later than usual the night before Thanksgiving, making a third and hopefully final batch of lemon cookies for the next day. He’s already accidentally grated his finger trying to zest a lemon and then got lemon juice in a papercut he didn’t know he had, but he intends to persevere, because he’d managed to find out through Heidi that Evan really loves lemon cookies.

 

He has never made lemon anything before and honestly has never really done any kind of baking in his life but Evan really loves lemon cookies and Connor really loves Evan, so…

 

He’s going to get this right.

 

The first batch had been too crunchy, the second batch too soggy, but the third batch looks promising. He’s already made an apple pie, snickerdoodles and chocolate chip cookies and he’s planning on making brownies and a chocolate cheesecake in the morning, so even if these lemon cookies don’t work out there’s plenty of food, but Connor just… really wants to do this for Evan.

 

Connor puts the tray in the oven, sets the timer and then eats a Snickerdoodle and opens up his laptop to watch a YouTube video while he waits. Edgar climbs onto his lap, then his shoulder and meows insistently until Connor sighs and puts on Binging with Babish, which Edgar always responds to very positively. Connor suspects it’s the guy’s voice. It’s a nice voice.

 

The video of this guy trying to make a palatable version of The Good Place’s peeps and chili combination comes to a close just as a timer goes off, and Edgar stays firmly on Connor’s shoulder as he very carefully takes the cookies out of the oven and puts them on a cooling rack. He looks at them critically. They look right, at least, but the proof will be whether they taste any good.

 

Connor gets changed into his pajamas, reads for a while in bed then goes back to try a lemon cookie. He’s pleasantly surprised that they are actually really fucking delicious.

 

He’ll figure out what to do with the two sub-par batches. Maybe there’s, like, a soup kitchen he can drop them off at on his way to Evan’s tomorrow. They’re not bad or inedible, they’re just not perfect. Connor thinks Evan deserves really fucking good lemon cookies.

 

Well, Connor thinks Evan deserves the entire fucking universe, but the universe also includes really fucking good lemon cookies.

 

Finally satisfied with his baking efforts, he takes his meds, brushes his teeth and heads to bed.

 

When Connor wakes up the next morning, Edgar’s standing on his back, pressing his paws against him like he’s trying to knead dough. He rolls over and Edgar lets out an indignant “mrow”.

 

“Sorry, dude,” Connor apologizes, then checks his phone to see it’s about ten am. There’s a text from Evan with a selfie with his mom from the Thanksgiving parade, which is super fucking cute. Connor responds by sending a selfie of him and Edgar, and he’s aware he looks like a mess but Evan responds immediately with a barrage of heart emojis, so clearly Evan doesn’t mind.

 

Once Connor’s fed Edgar, then showered and dried his hair, he gets started on making brownies. Once he’s got the brownies in the oven, he takes the opportunity to give his mom a call. She answers immediately.

 

“Connor sweetheart, how are you doing?”

 

“I’m good,” Connor says with a smile. “How are you and Zoe?”

 

“We’re having a champagne breakfast,” Cynthia announces, and Connor grins. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

 

“Happy Thanksgiving,” he replies. “Sorry I’m not there.”

 

“We miss you,” says his mom, her voice warm. “But I know you’re in good hands today. I ran into Heidi right before she left and she promised to keep an eye on you for me.”

 

“Mom, come on.”

 

“I worry,” she says gently. “Especially after the last few months.”

 

Connor swallows hard. Blinks a few times. Tries not to get too emotional about it all, because his mom dropping everything to come and see him, stay with him and make sure he was okay, means a whole fucking lot and he’s thanked her a million times but it’s never going to be enough. “I’m doing a whole lot better,” he promises. “I really am, Mom. And dinner is going to be great. Apparently Evan’s roommate is a great cook.”

 

“Zoe tells me you’ve become a pretty great cook yourself,” says Cynthia, sounding impressed. “You’ll have to cook me something next time I visit.”

 

“I’ll start planning the menu,” he replies with a grin. “I’m actually making dessert for tonight at the moment. I made an apple pie, and cookies and brownies, and I’ll make a cheesecake later.”

 

“Sounds like we all should have come to New York for Thanksgiving,” his mom says with a smile in her voice. “That’s great, honey. You sound so much better. So much happier.”

 

“I really am,” he promises her. A thought occurs to him. “Oh, I’m sending a book home with Heidi for you, okay? For our book club. Sorry I forgot to send one with Zoe.”

 

“I have a book for you!” she replies immediately. “I’ll send it back with Zoe. Sorry I forgot to send it with Heidi. I meant to, I promise!”

 

Connor laughs. “We got there in the end.” He thinks hard before asking his next question. “Is, uh, is Zoe seeing Dad today?”

 

“They’re having dinner,” says Cynthia, her voice cautious. “But I’m sure if you wanted to call your dad, he’d love to hear from you.”

 

Connor doubts it. Very much.

 

He and his mom talk a little longer, and he talks to Zoe briefly, then finally they wrap things up. Once the call is over, Connor starts working on the chocolate cheesecake and considers his options.

 

The last time he talked to his dad, things were awful. Really, really fucking awful. So awful that they sent him into a fucking tailspin, made things go completely out of control, but…

 

It’s Connor’s fault for reacting that way, right?

 

“Nope,” he says to himself aloud. “Don’t go down that path, it’s not going to go well for you.”

 

He picks up his phone to call his dad almost ten times during the making of the chocolate cheesecake, but each time he just… stops himself. Stops himself from calling, or can’t bring himself to call, or…

 

Larry and Connor have never been close. Never. But somehow, Connor feels like a line has been crossed this time and he doesn’t think he should have to be the one to try to connect. He shouldn’t have to…

 

He takes a deep breath.

 

Picks up his phone.

 

Composes a text message.

 

**Happy Thanksgiving.**

 

Barely a minute passes before Larry’s response comes through.

 

**Happy Thanksgiving.**

 

Connor lets out a long, shaky breath. “Okay,” he says to Edgar quietly. “I tried, right? I…”

 

He doesn’t know what else to say, so he goes back to his baking.

  


* * *

Evan and his mom got up very very early. They bundled themselves into coats and packed a thermos of coffee and headed out into the early morning to grab a spot along the parade route. Evan had lived in New York for years but this was the first Thanksgiving he had actually spent in the city.

His mom was really excited about the parade. It was sort of adorable, the childlike enthusiasm she showed, talking to everyone around them about how excited she was that her son had brought her here. Evan loved seeing her this relaxed, this happy.

“I’m so glad we got to do this,” His mom said suddenly, just as things were getting started. She squeezed his hand tightly.

“Me too,” Evan said. And he really was glad. He was so glad she was here, so glad they were doing this together, so glad in general… to exist. Which was a rarity for Evan, to be so overwhelmingly happy about something that he wasn’t burdened with all of the potential shitty what-ifs.

His mom seemed to have a great time. She yelled at the top of her lungs when her favorite floats and balloons went by, excitedly pointing when she heard a song she recognized, and it was so good to see her so happy. It was so good.

When the parade ended, they very slowly made their way back to Evan’s apartment, cold and tired and both planning to take a nap before dinner.

“I know you don’t want to have this fight…” His mom started as they got off the subway by his apartment.

Evan sighed. “Then let’s not bother, okay? I’ll give him a call.”

His mom smiled at him. “You’re a good kid. I got very lucky.”

Evan doubted that very much. But he wanted to make sure his mom had a nice time, and if calling his dad would keep her from stressing out, he would do it. He wanted her to enjoy herself.

Back at the apartment, Alex was in the kitchen wearing an apron and checking her phone. “Hi! How was the parade?”

“So good!” Evan’s mom said, and she gave Alex a highlight reel while the three of them got to work helping Alex chop up sweet potatoes.

“You two look like you need some rest,” Alex said. “Connor and Mattie aren’t arriving until about four o’clock, and we’ll probably eat at five or so? So we have time to play with the kitty and let the bird rest and all.”

“Sounds good,” Evan said. “You need help with anything else?”

“I’ve got it all under control,” Alex said. “The last few things will go on the oven closer to dinner time.”

“Great, I’m going to go lie down for a while,” Heidi said. She kissed Evan on his cheek. “Call your father please?”

“I will,” Evan said. “Love you.”

“Love you.”

Alex sighed. “Your mom is… so nice?”

“I know,” Evan said. “Thank you again for hosting us for dinner? You really didn’t have to put in all of this work.”

“I’m happy to do it,” Alex said with a smile. “Also Mattie? She goes nuts when I cook. Like. I hope your mom brought earplugs, because I am absolutely getting laid tonight.”

“That’s gross,” Evan said happily. “Okay, I have to go make an obligatory call to my father so he doesn’t feel guilty for abandoning me when I was seven.”

“Neat!” Alex said with a smile. “Have a good time!”

“Oh you know it,” Evan said.

He grabbed his phone and headed out to the roof of the building because he was probably going to need a cigarette to get through this call. He knew Connor didn’t like him coming up here, but honestly… Evan liked it up there. It was a nice space. He liked to sit up here every once in a while, just to feel a little less like he lived in a sardine can. Evan lit a cigarette, had a seat on the bench in the middle of the roof and dialed.

“Yello?”

“Hey dad,” Evan said.

“Evan, buddy! Happy Thanksgiving! How are you?” His dad’s voice sounded a little forced, a bit of fake enthusiasm threaded into it.

“Good. Mom came to New York this year for it, and we just got back from watching the parade.”

“Damn, she always did love that parade,” He said it with a familiarity Evan thought he had not earned. “It was nice of you to take her.”

“Yeah, we both had a good time,” Evan said.

“And what’s the dinner plan? Take out?”

“Actually, my roommate Alex is a great cook so we’re taking advantage of that.”

“Nice, very nice. Just the three of you?”

“Uh, no, it’ll be mom and I and Alex and our other roommate Mattie and my boyfriend Connor.”

“Oh,” His dad sounded surprised. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

There was a long pause.

“When did that happen?”

“When did what happen?” Evan asked caustically. He tensed, like he was bracing for impact.

“When did you… y’know. Get together? Last I heard from your mom, you and Connor were just friends.”

Oh.

Evan had sort of been expecting something more… homophobic. He’d never bothered to come out to his dad because it had never been relevant before now. He forgot that his parents did check in pretty regularly, though he didn’t totally understand why. He supposed it made sense for her to have mentioned something about Connor to his dad, even though he wasn’t completely on board with his dad knowing much of anything about him.

“September,” Evan said. “We got together in September.”

“From what your mom says, he’s a good guy. Does he make you happy?”

Evan wasn’t expecting that question. “Uh. Yeah. He really does.”

“That’s good, bud. Good for you.”

“Uh. Thanks.” Evan cleared his throat, feeling awkward.“ How… How are you? How are Amelia and Natalie?”

“Good… Uh. Tired a bit. Natalie’s not quite sleeping through the night yet, but we’re getting there. We’re getting there. And Amy… well. You know. I’m not sure we’ve totally sold her on being a big sister yet?”

“I’d imagine it would take some getting used to,” Evan said because he knew, from his experience, that realizing there were little kids who shared DNA with him had been a challenge.

“Amy, uh. She’s… been asking about you?” His dad sounded sort of hesitant, unsure. “I think becoming a big sister sort of made her curious about her big brother? I… I said I’d ask if you wanted to, like, facetime or something? With her? Now that she’s older, I mean…”

“Uh. Yeah. I guess we could do that.”

“I know it… might be sort of weird…” His dad said. “But it’s. It’s sort of cute? I was on soccer carpool duty last week and Ames was telling all of her little soccer buds about her brother who is a lawyer in New York.” He blew out a breath. “It just might be nice for you to get to know each other better.”

“I… yeah. I guess.” Now he felt like… like somehow he was the bad guy here, and he hated that. He never asked to be anyone’s brother. He didn’t like thinking of some kid he didn’t know bragging about him to her soccer friends. When Evan was her age, he had to quit soccer because his single mom couldn’t afford the registration after his deadbeat dad took off to Denver… It felt unfair, like he was being put on the spot.

“I know things… I screwed up, when you were younger. But it might be nice, you know? If you and the girls knew each other.”

“Yeah,” Evan said hollowly.  

“And if you wanted, I mean… We’d be happy to have you and your guy out here, if you wanted to visit?”

Evan had no interest in bringing Connor to Denver, in the pair of them watching Carl and his family put on a big welcoming show for them to pretend like shared DNA meant more than it did. But…

Evan was kind of tired of being the guy who was pissed off at his dad. Carl wasn’t a good father to Evan, but at least he wasn’t, like actively trying to sabotage his life because he was a sad and bitter man like Larry Murphy. He wasn’t interested in making this a fight. There was nothing to fight over anymore. So all he said was, “That’s nice of you to offer. Thanks.”

They talked a little more. Mostly about baby Natalie, who apparently cried if you tried to put socks on her feet and had been born totally bald. Evan asked a couple of questions he knew to ask about babies, like how she was sleeping and if she was fussy and how they were managing childcare.

Evan finished one cigarette and then lit another while his dad rambled on, obviously sleep deprived, about how Tracy couldn’t wait to get back to work because she missed talking with other adults. Things ended when Natalie started to cry in the background, but Evan’s dad hung up promising to send Evan a few new pictures of his half-sister.

Feeling sort of drained, Evan headed back down to his apartment. He sent a text to Connor, saying, _“Just talked to my dad. Apparently we’re invited to Colorado.”_

Connor’s response came quickly. _“And how do we feel about this invite?”_

_“TBD.”_

_“I’d go with you,”_ Connor texted him after a while. _“If you ever wanted to do that. I could find a way to come with you.”_

_“I love you so much.”_

Evan headed to his bedroom, set an alarm and passed out for an hour and a half, and was asleep almost instantly. He woke up feeling a lot less exhausted, and he was surprised to find his mom in the kitchen pouring Alex a glass of wine.

“Everything okay?”

Alex nodded wearily. “I forgot green beans. I was going to make a casserole, and I only just remembered.”

“Here, sweetheart, drink this,” His mom said, putting the glass under Alex’s nose. “You’ve made plenty of food. We can survive without green beans.”

“I just wanted to do a nice dinner for you all…” She said softly.

“You made a turkey!” Evan said, smiling. “Trust me, it’s already a super nice dinner. Don’t stress yourself out over some green beans. Really. It’s not like Mattie and I would kick you out for not making green beans.”

Alex nodded, drinking a big gulp of her wine. “You better not,” Alex said. “It’s really hard to find a roommate who isn’t a serial killer in this city.”

“Exactly!”

Alex finished her wine in one long swallow, then poured a second glass and finished it quickly. “I ought to slow down,” She said, “Unless you think Mattie could smuggle me out an IV?”

“Uh,” Evan said uncomfortably. His mom looked confused and surprised.

“Like when I stole one from work?” Alex said, looking confused. “I mean I know you had alcohol poisoning but please tell me you remember that or I did not do an adequate neurological check… Shit.”

It went very quiet.

“You… Evan, when did you have alcohol poisoning?” Heidi asked quietly. She looked horrified. He could practically hear her mind doing the math, narrowing down when he could have possibly done that.

“Shit,” Alex said, her eyes going very wide. “Shit, shit, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that I just… Why did I open my big mouth? Shit, I’m sorry, ignore me -”

“Summer before this past one,” Evan said. “I was okay. Alex and Mattie and Connor helped me out.” His face was flushed, he was ashamed of that, he didn’t want his mom knowing about that. “I was okay.”

“Excuse me,” His mom said, setting down the glass she was drinking out of.

“Fuck, Evan, I am _so_ sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Evan said firmly. “I was the one who gave myself alcohol poisoning, remember?” He tried to give her a smile. “Don’t worry about the green beans, okay? I’m gonna go talk to my mom.”

“I’m really sorry. Fuck, why did I say that?”

“It’s okay. Really. Not your fault at all.” He wasn’t upset with Alex. He was upset with himself, for getting himself into that situation last year, for lying to his mom about it for all of this time. He pulled her into a quick, tight hug and then headed off to talk to his mother.

He found his mom standing in his bedroom. She was looking at his desk, her face twisted and a little confused. “I got you a nice frame for your diploma… what did you do with it?” She asked him when he shut the door.

“It’s in my office,” Evan said. He suddenly had this fear that she thought maybe he might have gotten rid of it.  “Everyone hangs up their diplomas at work.”

“Right. That makes sense.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Evan said, rushing as if saying it faster might spare her some pain. “About the alcohol poisoning. It was stupid and I was embarrassed because I screwed up and I didn’t… I didn’t want to tell you about it because I knew you would worry and I don’t want you to worry.”

“When? After you got the results for the bar or… When did it happen?”

Evan sighed. “June. When I started my job. Things were sort of... intense and I. I didn’t want you to worry.”

His mom looked dangerously close to tears. “I… worry, Evan. I’m your mother. I’m going to worry… And I hate that you don’t feel like you can tell me these things. I want to know what’s going on with you… I don’t want it to be like when you were in high school, I want to be here for you, but you have to let me -”

“What do you mean when I was in high school?” Evan asked, his heart speeding up a little too fast, suspecting her answer.

“When you broke your arm,” She said to him, a tear dripping down her cheek. His stomach dropped, like he was on a roller coaster. He felt like he might fly out of the car, into the air that wouldn’t catch him, like he was seconds away from free falling. “I… I’ll never forgive myself for not answering that call right away.”

“It was okay… my boss took me to the hospital, I was alright… You picked me up. You were there.”

“But I… You called me once. Then forty-five minutes went by, then you called a few times in a row… and I… Baby, I know how you broke your arm. And I know that you called me to… say goodbye first.”

Evan felt unsteady on his feet, like he was standing on an unstable branch in a tree bending with the wind, like he was standing on the roof’s edge, his toes hanging over… Like any second he would give himself over to gravity. He hated that feeling. He gripped his desk chair for support. “What?” He said faintly. "How did you...?"

“I regret every single day that I didn’t pick up that call. That I didn’t know…I didn’t know you were hurting so much, didn’t know that you needed help. I didn’t know any of it until so much later, and then I was too scared to come and talk to you because I was afraid if I did you might try to hurt yourself again or that you might be angry with me and… I fucked up, I really screwed up..”

“You… how did you know?”

His mom’s face crumpled miserably. “I didn’t know… not for a long time. But when you were packing up to go away to school, I. I found a stack of those letters that Dr. Sherman had you writing? They were all printed, in this folder and. I didn’t want to read them but once I started I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop. And… oh sweetheart, they broke my heart, they were so… sad, and hopeless and. It all sort of clicked. You’d been climbing trees since you could walk, you’d never hurt yourself worse than a few scrapes or splinters, and you wrote that you felt like you didn’t belong anywhere and... I should have come to talk to you the moment I found those letters, the second I suspected, but I was so scared of pushing you away that I chickened out.”

“I’m sorry,” Evan said softly. “I… I didn’t… I didn’t want you to know because I was scared you might… hate me.”

The moment the words left his lips he knew they were true. That he had held back from telling her out of fear that she would hate him for being sick, for being so pathetic and broken and trying to die. And he also knew that they were… kind of ridiculous. She was his mother. She wasn’t going to hate him.

“Oh, Evan,” She said, her eyes so fucking sad and he hated that, he hated that he had been the one to do that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, not until you were already moving out and… I should have known.”

“It’s not your fault,” Evan said. “I never told you. None of this… none of it was your fault. I’m sorry. I should have told you about what happened last summer, I just… I was embarrassed.”

“What happened?”

Evan smiled sort of ruefully. “I got. Stuck in an elevator at work. And I had a panic attack and.. I think I just sort of let things pile up. The bar, the job hunting, Sabrina getting engaged, suddenly working eighty hour weeks… I felt like I was failing, somehow, and I didn’t want you to know about it. Alex and Mattie and Connor looked after me when it happened and. I started talking to my therapist more and… I think things are better now. Not, like. All of the time, but they’re better.”

She pulled him into a tight tight tight hug. “You know you can call me, right? I want you to call me if things aren’t good. I want to be there when you need me. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I know,” He said, hugging her back. “I was… I was an idiot.”

He thought back to when he was dying and dying and knew she wasn’t just saying that. The one loop when he broke down and told her he was sure he was losing it, that he was dying and dying… His mom was already in the car to drive to New York five minutes after he called. Even though she would need to drive all night to get there. Even though he told her she didn’t need to come. If he hadn’t died in a car accident that night, he fully believed she would have sat by his side for however long it took to snap him out of his little psychiatric episode.

She meant it. That she was there for him. And it was almost… difficult to accept that, because for so long all Evan had done was hide things from her. And now he was trying, he really was, but it wasn’t easy… but his mom wasn’t going anywhere. And it meant a whole lot to him.

They stayed in his room a while, and his mom held onto him for a really really long time before she wiped her eyes and sniffed, straightening her clothes and announcing she was going to touch up her makeup before Mattie and Connor arrived. He wanted desperately to take the conversation back, to erase it, this was supposed to be a good fucking day and naturally his mental health shit had barged in and made his mom upset and he was such a fucking asshole…

His mom reappeared from the bathroom, and she hugged him tightly then pulled away and took his hand. “You’ll call me. If things aren’t good, you’ll call me?”

“I will. I promise.”

His mom gave him a rueful smile, then said, "I'm telling Connor too. Someone is calling me if you need your mom, damn it."

"Okay."

They joined Alex in the kitchen, taking orders to place things in the oven while she let the turkey rest. Evan got started on setting the rarely used table with their nicest mismatched plates and silverware. A moment later, his phone was buzzing because Connor was calling. “Hello?”

“I’m outside and I don’t have enough arms and Edgar - _dude_ come on _,_ stop _wiggling_ \- is being a little difficult.”

“I’ll be right down,” Evan said. He announced this to his mom and Alex and then hurried down to help Connor out. He had several bags and tupperware containers on the sidewalk already, and his cab driver was looking mildly irritated as Connor tried to maneuver a kitten and a bag full of cat supplies. “Here,” Evan said, taking Edgar out of Connor’s arms, keeping a gentle but firm hold on him so Connor could pay his cab driver. “Your dad ought to invest in a cat carrier. Or a leash,” He said to Edgar.

“I have a carrier, but he kept crying when he was in there,” Connor said. “Thanks.”

“What on earth are you doing out here?” Mattie’s voice called from slightly down the block. “Are we having a sidewalk Thanksgiving?”

“No, Connor just brought all of the food in his apartment,” Evan said fondly. “Any chance you can help us carry things up?”

“I absolutely can,” Mattie said, stooping to scoop up what looked like both a pie and a cheesecake as well as a bag full of cat toys. “Alex texted to warn me that she accidentally spilled the beans to your mum about you getting alcohol poisoning? Everything okay in there?”

Connor looked at Evan, looking surprised. “You never told your mom about that?”

Evan sighed, trying to adjust Edgar so he wouldn’t keep trying to escape to explore the lobby of his building. “I didn’t, but we talked, so ideally there won’t be any more emotions about that.”

“Shit.”

“Alex didn’t mean to bring it up, she was sort of freaking out about green beans… It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you okay though?” Connor asked.

“I’m fine,” Evan said, frowning slightly because he couldn’t exactly get into it in front of Mattie.

“At least there’s a cat to distract her,” Mattie volunteered as they all trooped onto the elevator. “Cute things are good for distracting mums. If things start to look bleak, I’ll propose or something.”

Evan stared at Mattie.

“Oh did I not say I was planning to do that? Well. I am. Not necessarily tonight… but if your mum needs something happy to happen, I’m ready to pull out the prince charming shit.”

“Holy shit,” Connor said. “And to think Evan didn’t realize you were dating until August.”

“Fuck off,” Evan said, laughing a little. Edgar was trying to climb up onto his shoulder, and Evan was trying to get him to sit still for literally thirty seconds. All three of them (and Edgar) stepped off of the elevator and made their way to the apartment. The moment they made it inside, Evan put Edgar down gently and he raced over to Heidi to rub his tiny face against her ankles.

“Look who I found,” Mattie said, kissing Alex hello. “These two weirdos and an adorable kitten.” She turned to Heidi and pulled her into a tight hug. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too,” Heidi said.

Mattie stooped down and pet Edgar, introducing herself as “Aunt Mattie,” which made Connor laugh this adorable, bright laugh. Heidi also joined her on the floor, fussing over Edgar and giving him scratches under his chin. She beamed at Mattie, going on and on about how great of a cook Alex was while Evan put the cheesecake Connor had made into the fridge.

Connor meanwhile, set up Edgar’s traveling litter box so they could avoid accidents and then offered Mattie and Heidi the bag of toys he had brought. The pair of them positively cracked up at Edgar’s toy raven, especially when Edgar immediately pounced on it.

“Hey Alex,” Connor said greeting her. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Nope. You brought dessert and entertainment, you are all set. Have some wine and dinner will be served soon.”

Evan volunteered to help ferry the food from the kitchen to the table with Alex, and then they all sat down. His mom cleared her throat, saying she knew most of them weren’t Jewish but she wanted to offer a quick prayer before they ate. She recited a Psalm (in Hebrew, which impressed Evan), then raised a toast to all of them for being there and maybe he got a little teary-eyed at that, maybe he felt Connor grab his hand and squeeze it tightly under the table before Edgar jumped on Evan’s lap and they debated whether it was safe to give a cat a little bit of turkey (the internet said it was fine).

The food was… fucking amazing. As everyone’s cheeks got a little flushed with wine, the main topic of conversation was just how fucking good at cooking Alex was. Her face was bright red as she tried to eat.

“Seriously, if you ever get tired of doctoring… you could be a chef.”

“Guys, oh my god,” Alex said and Evan realized too late that she was starting to tear up. “Fuck,” she said, wiping her eyes frantically. “Sorry, shit, fuck I keep fucking swearing I just… This is kind of my first uh… My first Thanksgiving where I’m not just tagging along? Like, I’m not the guest at somebody else’s holiday, this time it’s actually mine. If that makes sense? Just. Shit.” She was tearing up again. “This is so embarrassing.”

And Evan’s mom got up and hugged her. “If you can’t embarrass yourself in front of your family, then what good are they?”

Alex smiled super big only to immediately burst back into tears and Connor squeezed Evan’s hand really hard and Evan noticed his face was getting a little blotchy and he sort of hated that this was suddenly a very tearful holiday but…

Sometime about it felt big.

A sign of time passing. A sign that he had people… not just roommates who tolerated him and a mom who worried and a best friend who felt responsible for him but, like, genuinely, Evan had people. He had a man he loved. Roommates who had become his family. A mom with a huge heart.

...And also a tiny stray cat who was pawing at his leg for more food. Which was adorable and caused everyone to laugh and generally lightened the mood significantly.

They ate far too much, and drank several bottles of wine. Everyone settled on the sofas for a while after dinner finished, relaxing and all half watching a news report on Black Friday sales. Edgar stole a lot of attention, curling up in Evan’s mom’s lap and purring until he fell asleep.

They dug into the many (many, many) desserts Connor had made and brought along, everyone complaining that they were too full but still trying a piece of everything he had made. Evan beamed with pride as Connor stumbled over thanking everyone who said he was good at desserts, because it was kind of amazing to think that Connor had barely cooked before this summer and now he was baking and cooking full meals and doing well enough to do those things and that was good news.

Extremely good news.

He ate way too many of the lemon cookies because Connor had mumbled something about making them specifically because they were Evan's favorite. Connor was just... the best. And Evan loved him so much he would make himself sick on too many sweets to make sure that Connor knew it. 

“I love you so much,” Evan said to him as they curled up together on the sofa once they finished their desserts. Edgar was perched on Connor’s shoulder and the two of them were just talking, their faces close together. Connor was wearing this soft, warm smile that Evan loved so much and Edgar was happily purring and Alex and Mattie were holding hands on the other side of the room and Evan’s mom was snapping pictures of the cat and it had been a weird fucking year, but he was glad they were here. He was so glad to be part of this.  


	24. December (One Year and Ten Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What do you want?"  
> "Pictures of Spider-Man."

Connor calls a staff meeting for the first Friday of December before the store opens and tells his employees there’ll be donuts, then spends a good hour looking up places to get vegan donuts because Jax is a vegan. He ends up finding a place near the store, which is useful, and picks some up on Friday morning and makes a pot of coffee in his apartment and brings it down to the shop floor when everyone arrives. It’s not long before he’s got all three of them there and it’s not often they get all of them in the same place.

 

It’s actually kind of nice.

 

“Thanks for making it out,” he says, while pouring cups of coffee. “Only really a few things, but I figured we should all meet up in person every couple of months. Just so we actually remember what the people we don’t have shifts with look like.”

 

“These are really good donuts,” Jax says with an approving nod. “Are they from the place around the corner?”

 

“Yes they are,” Connor says with a grin. “Glad they’ve got the seal of approval, I’ll keep that in mind.” He looks around. “Okay, so first off - holiday party in two weeks. It’s pretty low key - there’ll be food, there’ll be drinks, there’ll be suppliers and a couple of valued customers, and Gladys and Martha will be there. Partners absolutely welcome. It’s not a late night, usually, but I’m not going to kick you out or anything. We close the store at 5, start the party and 6 and anyone who’s rostered on for Saturday, you’ve got a midday start instead of 10am. Cool?”

 

Jax, Maureen and Leslie all nod, and Connor continues, encouraged.

 

“Secondly, Christmas. We’re only closing for Christmas Day, but if you guys want time off around Christmas so you can go visit family, tell me now so we can organize it,” Connor says. “I don’t want anyone missing out on seeing family if it’s what they want, I just need to know so I can make it work.”

 

Leslie shrugs. “I’m just going to see my mom and dad upstate, so it’s not like I’m traveling far or anything. I’m cool to do my regular shifts.”

 

Jax and Maureen exchange a look, and Connor tries not to frown because they look… kind of off. Jax is the first one to talk. “Not meaning to overshare,” they say, a little hesitantly, “but I don’t exactly talk to my family? They’re super conservative and don’t… if I go home to visit, it’s just a whole bunch of misgendering and snarky comments and… I’m staying in town.”

 

“My family and I don’t talk at all,” says Maureen, and something in Connor’s chest twists a bit at how sad she sounds. “I came out as trans when I was 17 and they kicked me out, so I’m not going anywhere for Christmas, either.”

 

“Shit,” says Connor, not meaning to. “I mean, fuck. I mean… I’m really sorry, both of you, I didn’t… fuck, you shouldn’t feel like you had to disclose something that personal, I’m really sorry.”

 

Jax offers Connor a half smile. “Dude, it’s chill. We wouldn’t have said anything more than just ‘we’re staying in town’ if we didn’t trust you. And hey, it makes things easier on your end, right?”

 

“It does,” Connor admits. He knows he’s frowning now. “I am sorry, though.” He clears his throat. “Well, that’s it from me, is there anything else anyone wants to talk about now that we’re all here?”

 

They talk a little about sales and a popular kids book series that’s just come out, and Connor makes some notes, and then it’s time to open the store. Connor leaves the donuts in the staff kitchen for Jax and Leslie, then heads upstairs to grab his wallet and some canvas bags and goes to get some groceries. He leaves at the same time as Maureen and they’re heading in the same direction, so they talk a bit.

 

“What do you normally do on Christmas Day?” Connor asks. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

 

Maureen shrugs. “Sometimes I go to a movie, or get some food. Most of my friends are out of town, and so is my roommate, so I kind of just… chill out. Jax and I were thinking of spending the day together, actually. They’re in the same boat.”

 

They part ways, and Connor wanders around the grocery store for a while, not really super focused on his grocery list because…

 

Well, he’s kind of sad. What Jax and Maureen have said about their families makes him sad.

 

Connor does eventually pick up groceries, then heads back to the store and up to his apartment and puts together the ingredients for the yellow curry with sweet potatoes he and Evan both like and puts on the slow cooker for dinner. Then he makes some sandwiches, puts them in some Tupperware and puts them in his bag along with some granola bars and wraps up warm to walk to Evan’s office, picking up coffee on the way.

 

It’s half past twelve once he gets to Evan’s office and Evan’s at his computer, totally engrossed in his work. He knocks on the door gently and Evan looks up and grins at him, and Connor walks over and leans down to kiss him.

 

“Hey you,” says Evan warmly. “You didn’t have to bring me lunch on your day off.”

 

Connor rolls his eyes, kisses Evan again and puts the coffees on Evan’s desk so he can pull out the Tupperware container. “I made sandwiches,” he announces, and hands Evan one, and Evan eats happily and tells him a little about the case he’s working on.

 

Connor’s trying to listen and be attentive like a good boyfriend but his mind keeps drifting. After a while, there’s a hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” says Evan, sounding a little concerned. “Where’d you go?”

 

“Sorry,” Connor says, leaning in to kiss Evan again. “I just… okay, so we had our staff meeting this morning.”

 

Evan looks even more concerned. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Everything’s fine,” Connor assures him. “I was checking in with everyone about whether they wanted Christmas off, and I found out that Jax and Maureen both have garbage families. Jax’s family misgender them whenever they see them, so they don’t talk much, and Maureen’s family kicked her out when she came out as trans when she was seventeen. Seventeen! That’s bullshit.”

 

Evan’s face falls. “I’m so sorry,” he says, squeezing Connor’s shoulder. “That sucks.” He tilts his head a little. “I can see why you’re upset.”

 

“Remember when we were seventeen?” Connor continues, despite himself. “Remember… fuck. Just… _fuck.”_

 

He takes a moment to collect himself, because he doesn’t want to make a scene at Evan’s work, but he’s definitely feeling… something about all of this.

 

“They both spend Christmas alone,” Connor says after a moment, when he’s feeling a bit more in control of himself. “The two of them. They’re actually looking at hanging out this year, but in the past, most of their friends just leave town.” He pulls away from Evan and shrugs a little. “I just… I think it’s bullshit. I mean, my dad is an asshole, but at least he didn’t kick me out at seventeen.”

 

Evan’s jaw clenches a little, which tends to happen whenever Connor mentions his dad. Then Evan looks at Connor and something in his expression shifts. “You want to do something about it, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor, and it’s like something’s clicking in his brain. “I mean… I’m not going home for Christmas, and you don’t do Christmas, but… what if we invited them over? Would that be weird?”

 

Evan looks like he’s considering. “You could ask them,” he suggests. “Make it a stress-free invitation. I know they’re your employees, but you’re not exactly the most traditional boss in the world.” He laughs a little. “We had dinner at _your_ old boss’s place last month. The bookstore world is a whole different ball game.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” Connor says. He thinks he needs to mull it over in his brain a bit. Figure it out. “But yeah, I could talk to them, at least.”

 

When Connor gets back to the bookstore, it’s quiet, so he asks Jax if they have a moment to talk. Jax looks a little nervous, so Connor rushes to assure them it’s nothing bad, and they pop into the staff kitchen.

 

“What’s up?” Jax asks.

 

“I was thinking about what you and Maureen said about Christmas,” Connor admits. “Feel free to take some time to think about it, but if you guys wanted to spend Christmas Day at my place, you’d be super welcome.” Jax’s eyes widen and Connor feels like he needs to explain further. “I was planning on staying in town anyway and Evan’s Jewish, so he doesn’t really do Christmas, so it’d be more just hanging out, probably. Nothing super fancy. But you’re both welcome.”

 

“That’s, uh, that’s really nice of you?” Jax says, and they look a little taken aback.

 

“You don’t have to say yes,” Connor says firmly. “I know this is, like, super weird. Your boss asking you if you want to come over for Christmas is weird.”

 

“No offence,” Jax says, a half smile breaking out on their face, “but you’re not really that… bosslike.”

 

Connor has to laugh at that, and feels a little less weird about the whole thing. “Maureen said the two of you were planning on hanging out,” he continues, “so I’ll let you talk to her and you guys can decide what you want to do.” He shrugs. “Like I said, not a big deal. I’ll probably, like, make the curry that I’m making for dinner tonight that’s in the slow cooker right now.”

 

Jax’s eyes light up. “Is _that_ what that smell is?” they say, clearly intrigued.

 

“Yeah,” Connor replies with a nod. “It’s actually vegan, weirdly enough. I mean, sometimes I put chicken in it, but I can just not do that.”

 

“I’ll talk to Maureen,” Jax says. “But if your curry is as good as that smells, I’m probably gonna take you up on it.”

 

Connor spends the rest of the afternoon organizing catering and sending out invites for the holiday party. When Evan comes over after work, Connor’s lounging on the sofa reading with Edgar perched on his shoulder.

 

“Is the cat reading with you?” Evan jokes.

 

“What can I say? He likes Austen.” Connor puts the book down and grins at Evan. “By the way, sounds like we’re having curry on Christmas Day.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

It takes a while for Connor to work up the courage to talk to Evan about what’s been on his mind ever since he last changed the sheets on his bed and suddenly remembered that there was a set of restraints underneath the mattress.

 

Connor had genuinely sat there for a moment and thought about how he’d cuffed Evan to the bed and blindfolded him back in January and how incredibly beautiful he’d looked, how Connor had known how beautiful he was back then, even before he’d realized how stupidly in love with him he was, and honestly Connor’s an idiot for taking so long to figure it out.

 

The idea of asking Evan if he’d be okay with Connor tying him up and having his way with him again is definitely appealing. It’s just that Connor’s kind of nervous about it.

 

Because they’re different now. Evan’s not just his hot best friend he has sex with a lot, he’s his boyfriend. Officially his boyfriend. And maybe there are different rules for boyfriends than there are for fuck buddies. Connor doesn’t know.

 

Some of the things he and Evan have done in bed in the past, Connor would very much like to repeat, but he doesn’t exactly know how to start that conversation.

 

They’re sitting on the sofa in Connor’s apartment on Saturday morning. Edgar Allen Paw had decided he wanted to be in the bookstore today and had made his wishes known by sitting by the door down to the store and meowing until Connor let him go down, so it’s just Evan and Connor. Evan’s on his laptop, answering some emails, and Connor’s reading a book, except he’s not really reading, he’s just trying to figure out what to say.

 

“Remember how in January we had a lot of sex?”

 

Evan stops typing immediately. Shuts his laptop and turns to look at Connor. “I remember that pretty well,” he says after a moment, and he’s definitely giving Connor his full attention.

 

“Do you remember how I tied you up?” Connor continues, and Evan takes in a sharp breath, and his eyes darken, and he blinks a few times and gets a bit of a faraway look in his eye, like he’s picturing it in his mind, and… well, that’s certainly encouraging.

 

“If I ever get dementia and forget my own name, I’ll still remember that,” Evan says after a moment, looking straight at Connor, and he’s looking at him almost hungrily. “Any reason you’re bringing that up now?”

 

“I really want to do it again,” Connor says, and Evan lets out a moan and lunges toward him, pushing him back against the sofa and kissing him hard, and this is definitely a positive response and Connor melts into the kiss and Evan reaches down to stroke Connor, puts his hand right down his pajama pants and strokes his cock, and Connor can feel himself getting hard and Evan’s hard against him in his own pajama pants and as much as Connor just wants to get Evan off right now, he pulls himself back. “We need to talk about it first,” he manages to gasp, and Evan stills and pulls his hand away, looking at him intently.

 

“Okay,” says Evan, and he sounds a little uncertain now. “What do you… what do we need to talk about in particular?”

 

Connor bites his lip. “Limits,” he says after a moment. “And if there’s anything that’s… different, now that we’re together, now that it’s not just sex.” Evan looks at him and kind of nods, like he’s encouraging Connor to continue, and Connor pulls away slightly, because Evan is very, very distracting. “When I tied you up last time, you seemed to really enjoy it.”

 

“I did,” says Evan, his eyes blazing.

 

“But it also seemed like it was… a lot for you?” Connor tries to explain, frowning a little. “And I don’t… I know that giving up control is kind of… that you don’t like being vulnerable, that you don’t like feeling like you don’t have control, and I felt like maybe it was too much, when we did it in January, because after I did that, you were kind of… bossy, for a bit?”

 

Evan’s eyes widen a little, and he looks a little worried. “I’m sorry I was-”

 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Connor rushes to assure him. “I _like_ you bossy. I like you bossy a _lot_ , actually.” He remembers Evan fucking him hard and telling him not to come until he had permission, he remembers responding to every command with ‘yes sir’ and how Evan had reacted to being called ‘sir’ and he remembers how he’d figured out that yeah, okay, apparently he does have a submissive streak, but only if it’s Evan who’s in control. “I really like it. I like it when you take control, I like submitting to you like that. It’s… mind-blowingly hot. It really is.”

 

“I like it when you let me take control,” Evan says, and he’s sounding a little breathless. “I like it when you submit, I like it a lot. But I liked it when you tied me up and blindfolded me and made me beg you to come too, I… I trust you. I can let you have control like that, I can submit to you and let you do what you want to me because I love you and I trust you. And I would really, really like that to happen again.”

 

“Me too,” Connor says honestly. “Playing around with control like that? It’s ridiculously hot. I like it a lot more than I thought I did, and it’s not something I’d do with anyone else. Only you. Because I trust you. I love you so much and I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.” Evan smiles at him and Connor takes his hand and squeezes it. “But I think we’ve played kind of… fast and loose with this in the past, and I don’t want either of us to get hurt. To push past each other’s limits without realizing. I feel like maybe… maybe last time when I tied you up, it was too much for you, because you definitely seemed to want to take control afterwards.”

 

“It wasn’t too much,” Evan says immediately. He goes a little pink. “It was amazing. It was incredibly hot and I loved it, I really did, it just took a lot of willpower to not blurt out how fucking in love with you I was.”

 

Connor feels his breath hitch a little. “You were?” he says, because he honestly hadn’t known then, and that’s…

 

Fuck, every time he realizes that Evan spent so much time burying how he felt about Connor, it twists something inside him, makes him feel like he’d missed it, like he should have known, he should have been able to take that burden away.

 

Because looking back, it’s so painfully obvious that Connor had been every bit as in love.

 

“I was,” Evan says softly. “I _am._ I am so fucking in love with you, Connor. I trust you more than anyone I’ve ever known, you… you’ve literally saved my life, you are the most important person in the world to me, I love you so much. And when you tied me up and blindfolded me and touched me like that I just… it wasn’t just mind-blowingly good sex, it was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever felt. You made me feel completely out of control but I still felt safe. I knew I was safe with you.”

 

“I want you to feel safe,” Connor says immediately, and he can’t help it, he has to kiss Evan, so he does, and Evan melts into it. “I want you to have everything you want, Evan, I love you so, so much.”

 

“I want you to tie me up again,” Evan says, his voice low and full of lust. “I want you to tie me up and do anything you want with me, have me any way you want.”

 

Fuck, that’s hot. “You’ll let me do whatever I want?” Connor says, voice a little ragged to his own ears. “You’ll let me tie you up and blindfold you and fuck you?”

 

“Yes,” Evan says, and he’s pressed up against Connor now, and Connor can feel how hard he is, how warm his skin is. “Anything you want, Connor. Anything for you.”

 

“Fucking hell,” Connor groans, and kisses Evan again, kisses him deep and hot and holds his face possessively but carefully, because Evan is just so precious to him, he’s so amazing and wonderful and smart and caring and this wonderful, beautiful man is his and Connor can’t believe he’s so fucking lucky. “I love you so much, fucking hell.”

 

They make out on the sofa for a while until Connor finally manages to clear his head enough to pull Evan to his feet and lead him into the bedroom. When they’re in his room, Connor kisses Evan again, then pulls away and looks him up and down. He can see how hard Evan is through his pajama pants, and he unconsciously licks his lips. Fuck.

 

Evan’s pupils are blown and he’s looking right at Connor, panting. “How do you want me?”

 

“Naked,” Connor says immediately. “Take off your clothes.”

 

Evan’s breathing hitches but he obeys, pulling off his clothes quickly, and then he’s standing there naked and Connor’s fully clothed and there’s something incredibly hot about seeing Evan vulnerable like this, something intoxicating. “Very nice,” he says approvingly. “Do you want me to tie you up now?”

 

“Yes,” Evan says, and it’s almost a moan.

 

“Good,” Connor growls, and he can’t help it, he has to kiss Evan again, and Evan’s moaning against his mouth and wrapping his arms around Connor, and Connor all but pushes Evan on the bed and Evan lies down and places his hands above his head and Connor loses his breath for a moment. “You’re so beautiful. You are so, so beautiful.”

 

“I want you to tie me up,” Evan says, and there’s not an ounce of hesitation in his eyes. “Do whatever you want to me, Connor.”

 

“Fuck,” Connor says, and he bites his lip hard and unconsciously reaches down to stroke himself for a moment, then sets about putting Evan in the restraints. He works carefully and doesn’t rush, savoring the fact that Evan’s letting him do this, that Evan trusts him, that Evan loves him, that Evan’s willing to submit to him and that’s just so fucking hot but it’s also something Connor refuses to take lightly. Soon Evan’s spread-eagled on his bed, looking straight at Connor with blown pupils, panting and achingly hard. “Beautiful. You are so beautiful like this, Evan, I love you so much.”

 

“I love you,” Evan says, slowly and deliberately, looking at Connor unflinchingly. “I love you so, so much.”

 

“So much,” Connor repeats, smiling. He goes to his bedside table and finds the blindfold, then sits on the edge of the bed and reaches for Evan. “I’m going to blindfold you now, is that okay?”

 

“Yes,” Evan says immediately. “Anything you want.”

 

“If there’s anything you’re not comfortable with, you tell me,” Connor insists before he puts the blindfold on. “Ask me to stop if you want to. Or just say shellfish.”

 

Evan blinks, then smirks. “Are we seriously going to make shellfish our safe word?”

 

“I’ve got you tied to my bed,” Connor says with a smirk of his own. “Even though we both know you’re the better arguer, I’ve won this round by default.”

 

Evan gasps a little. “Anything you want,” he says again, and Connor puts the blindfold over his eyes and takes the moment to kiss him slowly, deeply, exploring his mouth with his tongue. He still tastes like his morning coffee and he is so, so, so beautiful.

 

Connor takes off his own clothes quickly and takes a moment to stroke himself as he looks at his boyfriend, so beautifully helpless, tied to his bed.

 

He has no idea how he got this lucky.

 

“When we did this in January,” Connor says, knowing his voice is a little rough, “all I could think about was how beautiful you were. How beautiful you are like this, Evan. All tied up and spread out for me.” He sits back on the bed and presses a kiss to Evan’s wrist, then kisses his way up Evan’s arm, all the way to his collarbone. “I love your collarbone,” he says, running his fingers along it and kissing it gently. “So beautiful. You are so, so beautiful.” He kisses his way up Evan’s neck then takes a moment to whisper in his ear. “I love you.”

 

“I love you,” Evan says immediately, and there’s a smile on his face, and his breathing is labored but he looks content, he looks happy, and Connor likes seeing him like this.

 

A lot.

 

A whole lot.

 

Connor takes his time kissing Evan everywhere he can think of, telling Evan how beautiful he is at every turn. Kissing every body part he can think of, telling Evan how much he loves him, how beautiful he is, how good he looks like this, how happy Connor is that Evan trusts him enough to do this. Evan’s breathing gets heavier and heavier and he’s moaning and gasping and saying Connor’s name, over and over again, like some kind of mantra, and Connor loves it, needs him to keep going, and presses hot kisses against Evan’s hips, noticing with satisfaction how hard Evan is, how his cock is twitching a little, how Evan’s so turned on.

 

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Connor says. “Okay?”

 

“Yes. Anything you want,” Evan moans.

 

Connor grins, and before he goes searching for lube, he presses a kiss to the tip of Evan’s cock, and Evan jerks wildly beneath him. Encouraged, he licks the slit, then takes more of Evan in his mouth, and Evan is begging and pleading and moaning and then Connor pulls away and Evan’s still writhing, still moaning, and Connor likes seeing him like this, likes seeing him so turned on, so lost in pleasure.

 

He takes his time getting his fingers nice and slick with lube, then starts off by inserting one finger and Evan lets out a long moan. “Do you like this?” Connor asks, his voice low, and Evan’s moaning and saying yes, yes yes yes, and encouraged, Connor works another finger in, reaching deeper and searching for just the right spot and finally pressing against Evan’s prostate, making him gasp and moan even more, and Evan’s cock is twitching and the tip is flushed red and he is so, so, so beautiful. “You’re so beautiful, Evan. You look so good like this.”

 

“Please,” Evan begs. “Connor, please, please fuck me.”

 

“I could,” Connor says, a little teasingly. “But I think you can ask me nicer than that, can’t you?”

 

“Please please please,” Evan begs, and he’s breathing heavily and pulling a little at his restraints, and Connor crooks his finger again and Evan’s back arches off the bed in pleasure. “Please, Connor, I need you to fuck me, I need your cock, please fuck me.”

 

Connor presses more hot kisses to Evan’s hip bones, then another to his cock. “Since you asked me so nicely,” he says, pulling out his fingers and watching Evan shudder beneath him. “How could I refuse?”

 

His hands are shaking a little bit as he rips open the condom wrapper, because the fact that Evan’s letting him do this, letting Connor take control like this, it’s almost overwhelming. He takes a few deep breaths to steady himself, then rolls the condom over his cock, rubs some more lube to make sure he’s nice and slick, then climbs on top of Evan carefully and slowly, slowly enters him. “How does that feel?” Connor asks, and Evan moans loudly. Connor stops for a moment. “Use your words, Evan. Tell me how that feels.”

 

“Incredible,” Evan breathes out. “I love it when you fuck me, oh my god, I love feeling you inside me, you feel so good.”

 

“You’re so tight,” Connor gasps as he pushes further, because fuck fuck fuck he’s only ever fucked Evan twice before but it had been amazing and it’s even more amazing now and Evan’s moaning and writhing and so, so tight and so beautiful and so responsive and Connor leans down and twists Evan’s nipple and Evan moans and shudders so beautifully, and Connor begins to fuck him slowly, moving his hips carefully, and Evan moves to meet him and he’s moaning and gasping. “Tell me how you feel, Evan. I want to hear you tell me how you feel when I fuck you like this.”

 

“I love it, I love it so much, I love you so much, you feel so good, I love being tied up for you I love it I love it I love you Connor Connor Connor please please please-”

 

Connor can’t help himself he has to kiss Evan, because Evan is so beautiful and so good and feels so good and he’s letting Connor fuck him and take control because he trusts him, because he loves him, and Connor is overwhelmed with how much he fucking loves this man, how completely mind-blowingly lucky he is that Evan loves him back, and then he reaches for Evan’s cock and starts stroking it as he keeps fucking Evan and Evan’s gasping even more and moaning and saying Connor’s name, over and over again, and it all feels so fucking good.

 

“Evan,” Connor gasps as he comes, and it’s a white-hot blaze of pleasure, and he throws his head back and listens to the sounds Evan’s making beneath him as he rides out his orgasm and it’s just so fucking good. “I love you so much, you feel so good, Evan, oh my god.”

 

Evan is moaning and saying his name over and over again beneath him and Connor has to make Evan come for him, he has to, he strokes Evan’s cock and runs his thumb over the tip and Evan writhes beneath him. “I love you,” Connor pants, because he’s still out of breath. “I want you to come for me, can you come for me?”

 

“Connor,” Evan gasps, letting out a sound that’s like a wail and then he’s coming hard, all over Connor’s hand, hitting his chest and Connor just keeps stroking him, letting him ride it out, and Evan’s coming for longer than Connor expects and it’s just so fucking good, so fucking beautiful to see him let go and lose control like this.

 

When he’s finally done Evan collapses against the bed, trembling. Connor pulls out of him slowly and Evan whimpers a little.

 

“I love you so much,” Connor says gently, and he removes Evan’s blindfold with his clean hand because he needs to see his eyes, needs to see him. Evan blinks a few times, like he’s readjusting to the light, and he smiles at Connor, and he looks a little dazed but definitely happy and Connor loves it. “I need to get a washcloth so I can clean things up before I uncuff you, but I’m going to be right back, okay?” he says, locking eyes with Evan. “Is that okay, or do you need a moment before I go?”

 

“A moment,” Evan murmurs, and Connor’s happy to oblige. He leans in and kisses Evan gently, then pushes his sweat-soaked hair off his face and kisses his forehead. “Thank you,” Evan murmurs again. “That was… I liked that.”

 

“I liked that, too,” Connor says, and decides fuck it, he’s going to wipe the hand he jerked Evan off with on his thigh and uncuff him. He carefully releases Evan’s hands, then his ankles, and Evan lets out a satisfied sigh and closes his eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Evan. I love you so much.”

 

“You can get a washcloth,” Evan mumbles, and his hands are shaking a little. “I’m okay.”

 

“You sure?” Connor asks, and Evan nods, and Connor kisses him again. “I won’t be long.”

 

He rushes to the bathroom to get a washcloth, then washes his hands and takes a moment to wash all the traces of Evan’s come off his own body, before making sure the washcloth is warm and not too damp so he can clean Evan up. On his way back to his bedroom, he stops in the kitchen to get a glass of water. He drinks an entire glass himself, then fills it up again and brings it back into the bedroom, to find that Evan’s still where Connor left him, lying on Connor’s bed with his eyes closed, still a little out of breath.

 

Connor sits back on the bed, puts the glass of water on the bedside table, then takes his time gently cleaning Evan up. Evan sighs a little at the contact, and then opens his eyes. “Do you want some water?” Connor asks, and Evan nods and sits up a little and Connor hands him the glass, making sure he’s got it before letting go, and Evan finishes the whole glass and Connor’s pleased.

 

He takes the glass and puts it on the bedside table, then hangs the washcloth on the handle of the drawer, and takes a moment to reach down and pull the blankets over both of them before wrapping himself around Evan. Evan rolls over and buries his face in Connor’s neck, letting out a sigh of contentment.

 

“I love you,” Connor says quietly. “Thank you for trusting me. For letting me do that.”

 

“I loved it,” Evan says, still sounding so blissed out. “I love you, you’re so amazing, I love you so much.”

 

Connor presses a kiss to the top of Evan’s head and pulls him closer to him. It’s not long before they both doze off.

 

* * *

 

Just before 5pm on the Friday of the Christmas party, Connor heads down to the main store floor of The Little Book Nook to find that the catering has just arrived and the place is already completely decked out in fairy lights. Maureen’s setting up the drinks table, despite not actually being rostered to work today, and Jax is arguing with Leslie about whether or not to put up mistletoe.

 

“It’s tradition,” Leslie insists.

 

“Yeah, and last year you kissed your boss’s boyfriend,” Jax shoots back.

 

“I veto the mistletoe,” Connor says cheerfully, and Leslie and Jax, who clearly hadn’t realized Connor was there yet, both turn a little pink. “No one will be kissing Evan but me tonight. Or any other night.”

 

Maureen giggles from the drinks table. She’s put her hair into a side braid that shows off her undercut and has threaded tinsel through it and is wearing something sparkly and flowy with a leather jacket, giving her a punk rock Filipino Christmas angel vibe that Connor thinks is really working for her.

 

“Please tell me more about Leslie kissing Evan at last year’s party,” Maureen says with a grin.

 

Leslie turns even pinker and Jax starts laughing. They have a loud, energetic laugh that Connor thinks is oddly endearing. “Oh man,” they say, “I heard all about it, like, the next day? Leslie was all ‘help I kissed my boss’s cute lawyer under the mistletoe and I think I’m getting fired for it even though he says they’re just friends’.”

 

“You thought I was going to fire you because you kissed Evan?” Connor asks, a little incredulous. “Leslie, come on.”

 

“I didn’t really think you were going to fire me,” Leslie says, still bright pink. “But you did look pretty pissed off.”

 

“Evan and I weren’t even-”

 

“I know, I know,” Leslie interrupts, grinning a little. “You weren’t even together. But… come on, Connor. You kind of were.”

 

Connor feels like it’s not worth arguing. He looks at the catering table, which has everything laid out from the caterers, then makes a trip upstairs with a couple of extra trays of hot food and puts them in his oven on low to keep them warm. By the time he gets back into the store with a couple of bags of ice from his freezer, the displays have been rearranged so there’s more space, Leslie’s putting out chairs and Jax and Maureen are doing what looks like some kind of swing dance routine to Jingle Bell Rock in the space they’ve created.

 

“Smooth moves,” Connor comments, heading to the drinks table and putting the ice in a container, then putting a couple of bottles of champagne on ice to keep chilled. Someone’s already put together mulled wine, as Connor had made an executive decision not to bother with eggnog this year, and the place is starting to smell festive and delicious.

 

Connor picks up one of the champagne bottles, notes that it’s pretty cold, then decides what the hell. He pops open a bottle, pours four flutes and hands them out to his employees.

 

“So most of our guests aren’t going to be here for another half hour at least,” Connor says once they’re standing together, “but I wanted to take a moment for just us before it all starts.” He clears his throat as the three of them look at him. “I, uh… I just wanted to say thanks for being a great bunch of people to work with. I know it hasn’t been easy, especially with me taking over the business and then, like, completely flaking out-”

 

“You didn’t flake out,” Maureen interrupts, and it’s so unlike Maureen to interrupt that Connor’s a little taken aback. “You took a step back to look after yourself and focus on your health because you had to. That’s not flaking out.”

 

“Seriously,” Leslie chimes in. “Connor, you didn’t flake out at all. Not even a little bit. Even when you were really unwell, you were always there if we needed us, and always gave us the support we needed.” She smiles. “You’ve had a hell of a time dealing with some really stressful stuff but you’ve always had our backs, and I for one really appreciate it.”

 

“Haven’t known you long,” Jax says matter-of-factly, “but you’ve made me feel welcome and valued the whole time. And I really don’t see you focusing on your health as flaking out, dude.”

 

Connor’s not going to tear up in front of his staff, fucking hell. “Thank you,” he says, blinking a few times because he’s not going to get all weird and emotional, that’s just too embarrassing. “You’ve all been great. In spite of all of the challenges, it’s been a really successful few months, and honestly, it’s been a team effort, guys.” He takes a deep breath and keeps going. “Running a business is… a little fucking scary, and it helps to know I’ve got good people in my corner. So… cheers, I guess.” He raises his glass, and the four of them clink them together.

 

By the time other guests start showing up, they’ve polished off a bottle of champagne between the four of them. Just like last year, Evan helps Martha into the store, which is honestly so cute and thoughtful that Connor has to kiss him at least three times once Martha and Gladys are safely inside.

 

Evan grins at him. “Seems like you four got a head start.”

 

Connor kisses him again and goes to properly greet Gladys and Martha, who are both a little rosy-cheeked from the cold but look pleased to be there. They seem more relaxed. Connor thinks that retirement agrees with them. Gladys pulls Connor into a hug, then Martha takes his hand in both of hers and squeezes them lightly.

 

“You’re still too thin,” Martha announces, her voice a little concerned. “Not to worry, I’ll bring you over a cheesecake next week, we’ll soon sort that out.”

 

“Connor’s really taken to the slow cooking thing,” Evan says to Martha, and Connor’s a little embarrassed at how proud they both look. “He cooks a lot now.”

 

“I like cooking,” Connor mumbles, definitely embarrassed now. He looks at Martha and Gladys. “How have you guys been? What have you been up to?”

 

Martha launches into a story about how she’s been making clothes for premature babies for the local hospitals and how Gladys has been writing more poetry. Connor ends up in a conversation about possibly publishing an anthology of Gladys’s recent work through Leatherbird and before he knows it, the room is full of people.

 

He looks over to see Leslie handing out snacks, Maureen pouring drinks for Marco and Caroline, two of their suppliers who are probably talking shop, and Evan in conversation with Mr. Nachman, Gladys and Martha’s lawyer, and a tall man who Connor suspects is his husband. Connor makes his way over to Evan to say hello and Mr. Nachman grins at him as he approaches.

 

“Connor, hello! Thanks for inviting us,” says Mr. Nachman, and Connor shakes his hand with a smile. “This is my husband, Jonah.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Connor says, shaking Jonah’s hand as well. Jonah’s taller than Connor, which isn’t particularly common because Connor’s pretty tall, and he’s got a big smile and seems like the kind of person who has plenty of energy.

 

Connor vaguely remembers Gladys once saying that Mr. Nachman’s husband was “quite the character” and it turns out she was definitely not wrong.

 

Jonah, it turns out, is a clown.

 

As in, that is his actual profession.

 

“People keep asking when I’m retiring,” Jonah confesses, “but Levi refuses to retire and I refuse to retire before him, so I suppose I’m just going to end up the oldest clown in New York City. Maybe even New York State. Maybe even all of America! I should look up the Guinness Book of World Records. You can do it on your phone now, can’t you Levi? You should goggle it.”

 

“You mean Google it,” Mr. Nachman says patiently.

 

Jonah blinks. “Right. Goggle, Google - it’s all the same thing in the end. A silly word for a serious thing, like finding out if I can break a world record.” He leans down and kisses Mr. Nachman, then grins. “Can I borrow your phone to do Google?”

 

“You’ll break it.”

 

“I will not.”

 

“You broke the last one.”

 

“I did not! You’re spreading lies and slander about me! In front of these dashing young men. I won’t stand for it.”

 

“Did he just call us dashing?” Connor murmurs to Evan, who cracks up laughing, then slips his hand into Connor’s. Connor’s hit once again by how nice it is to hold Evan’s hand, warm and solid and steadying. Evan moves a little closer to him and Connor can’t help but lean in and kiss him. He’s definitely already a little tipsy, kissing Evan in front of a near stranger, but he can’t help it. Evan’s too beautiful.

 

Mr. Nachman’s smiling widely when Connor looks back at him, and Jonah’s grinning as well. Mr. Nachman opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then closes it, then turns to Evan and starts talking again. “Now I know it’s been a while, but I have to congratulate you again on that case in April,” he says with a warm smile. “That was a big win, especially in your first year practising. Hell, it would have been a big win if you’d been practising for a decade. You should be incredibly proud of yourself.”

 

Evan looks… a little overwhelmed. “Thank you,” he says, and Connor squeezes his hand tightly. “I didn’t realize you followed environmental law cases.”

 

“Oh, I don’t,” Mr. Nachman - Levi, he’s said to call him Levi like three times now so Connor’s going to try - replies with a laugh. “But you definitely made an impression. I heard all about it through the queer Jewish lawyer grapevine.”

 

Evan blinks. “There’s a queer Jewish lawyer grapevine?”

 

Levi grins. “We have a Facebook page. Are we friends on Facebook? We should be. I’ll add you to the group.”

 

“Ugh,” Connor says with a roll of his eyes. “Facebook.” He turns to Evan and smiles. “Do you want another drink? I can get you one.”

 

“Rum?” Evan suggests, and Connor kisses him quickly before turning to Jonah and Levi and seeing if they want anything. He heads to the drinks table to sort out drinks for everyone to see Maureen and Zoe are chatting.

 

“You made it!” Connor says with a smile as Zoe notices him, and pulls her into a tight hug.

 

Zoe laughs as she pulls away. “Seems like you’re going to be the embarrassingly drunk Murphy at this year’s party.”

 

“It’s my party and I’ll be embarrassingly drunk if I want to,” Connor retorts. “I’m just getting some drinks, but it looks like you’re in capable hands.”

 

Maureen turns a little pink. “Turns out we’re both not so secret Judy Blume fans,” she says with a small smile. “I remember checking them out of the school library when I was a kid, making sure that none of my siblings saw me.” Her smile drops a little, and Zoe pats her arm comfortingly.

 

Connor smiles at both of them. “I’ll let you get back to Blume fangirling,” he says. He pours some drinks, then takes the first two over to Levi and Jonah, then goes back to get his and Evan’s drinks, only to realize there’s something rubbing his ankle.

 

He looks down to see Edgar Allan Paw is meowing his little head off, demanding attention. “Sorry buddy,” he says apologetically, kneeling down to pet him. Soon Edgar is climbing up his arm and perching on his shoulder, and Connor realizes how completely fucking ridiculous he must look with his cat sitting on his shoulder in a room full of people, but decides he doesn’t care. Zoe and Maureen both grin at him and Connor grins back, before heading to where Evan, Levi and Jonah are still chatting.

 

Connor hands Evan his drink and Evan kind of rolls his eyes at Edgar. “Of course he wants to be the center of attention,” he says with a good-natured sigh. “Trust you to end up with a weird cat.”

 

“He just doesn’t want to miss out,” Connor replies. He turns to Levi and Jonah. “This is Edgar Allan Paw. He likes to feel tall.”

 

Turns out Levi Nachman is a cat enthusiast because he absolutely melts and starts petting and talking to the cat, telling him how beautiful he is. Edgar absolutely preens at the attention, then decides he’s jumping ship and leaps into Levi’s arms.

 

“And of course, Levi has charmed the cat,” Jonah says with an exaggerated eye roll. “It’s just how he is. He has a way with animals.”

 

“Of course I do. How do you think I’ve put up with you for the past thirty-two years?” Levi replies immediately, and all four of them laugh.

 

When the laughter dies down, Jonah looks at Evan and Connor pointedly. “I have to say,” he says with a smirk, “when Levi saw you two together tonight, he was just so happy you two crazy kids finally made it work.”

 

Connor and Evan exchange a glance. Connor, who vaguely remembers Levi mistaking them for a couple at the last holiday party, finds his cheeks turning pink, but he’s nowhere near as red as Evan.

 

“Jonah,” Levi says warningly. “Don’t embarrass them.”

 

“I remember this time last year,” Jonah continues, cheerfully ignoring his husband. “Levi got back from the holiday party and told me all about how the nice young man buying the bookstore off Gladys and Martha and his talented, extremely bright lawyer friend were obviously in denial about being head over heels for one another.”

 

Evan’s turning even redder, if possible, and Edgar meows at Levi then takes a flying leap out of his arms and down to the ground, then trots over to where Jax is talking to Gladys and Martha, seemingly seeking out new people to entertain.

 

Levi sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I can’t take him anywhere.”

 

“You weren’t wrong,” Evan says suddenly, and from the look on his face, he didn’t mean to say it. “At least, you weren’t for me. I…”

 

“It took us a while,” Connor chimes in, taking Evan’s hand again. “But we got there.”

 

Evan gets the next round of drinks from the drinks table, and Connor catches up with Martha and Gladys and Caroline and Marco and a couple of other key stakeholders, checking to make sure everyone is fed and has a drink and finding that everyone’s more than happy, because Maureen, Jax and Leslie have been consistently making the rounds. There are fewer people there than last year but Connor had ordered the same amount of food and alcohol, so people are getting quite steadily drunk, which is kind of hilarious.

 

Pretty soon, there’s a group of people crowded around Jonah, who is telling stories about his career as a professional clown that have everyone in stitches. Maureen in particular seems intrigued.

 

“How did you end up becoming a clown? Did you always want to?”

 

“Oh no,” says Jonah with a laugh. “I was going to be a Serious Actor.” Connor can hear the capitalisation. “But I was struggling to find work - you know, same old story, I was young and I needed the money. And turned out I was actually pretty good at it so… I decided to go pro.”

 

“That’s so interesting,” Maureen says, and Connor can’t tell if she’s genuinely interested or just kind of tipsy. “Do you have a clown name?”

 

Jonah laughs and Levi sighs. “Ah, the age-old question,” says Jonah, in this dramatic but self-effacing tone. “I have many names, but when I am a clown, I am known as… Porko.”

 

Evan barely manages to avoid spitting out his drink.

 

“Aren’t you Jewish?” Leslie asks with a laugh.

 

“That’s what makes it funny!” Jonah exclaims, as Levi shakes his head next to him. “But the truth is, I have many names. For a while I was known professionally as Jonah Knight, but I took Levi’s name when we got married so I am legally Jonah Nachman now.”

 

“Is Knight your… what’s the term for maiden name if you’re not a maiden?” Maureen asks, looking genuinely curious.

 

Levi groans and Jonah’s eyes light up. “Well, that’s a funny story, you see. My birth name is Jeremiah Jonah Jameson.”

 

For the second time that night, Evan successfully chokes back a spit take. He swallows, then looks at them, eyes burning with amusement. “Oh my god, that would make you…”

 

“J. Jonah Jameson,” says Jonah with a grin. “Absolutely. I was maybe 8 when the comic came out and you better believe it was plenty entertaining for everyone around me.”

 

“Oh my god,” Evan says again, looking absolutely delighted.

 

Connor completely one hundred percent Does Not Follow. He’s about to ask when Jonah opens his mouth and Levi groans again.

 

“I remember when I first met Levi and introduced myself,” says Jonah, his smile even bigger. “He doesn’t bat an eyelid when I say my name, mind you. Not at all. It’s only a few months after we start dating that I realize he’s a huge nerd.”

 

“Jonah, come on,” Levi mumbles, his face going bright red. “Do you have to tell this story?”

 

“This is one of my best stories!” Jonah exclaims, then turns to the assembled crowd with a wicked grin. “We’re in bed one night, getting a little handsy, talking a little dirty, and I figure I’ll try something else. So I say to him, all seductive like, ‘do you want my cock?’”

 

Evan actually does spit out his drink at this.

 

Connor bites his lip hard and tries very, very hard not to laugh.

 

“Babe,” Levi murmurs, his face even redder than before.

 

“And Levi,” Jonah continues triumphantly, “doesn’t miss a beat. He looks straight at me and says, I shit you not, ‘I don’t want your cock, I want pictures of Spider-Man.’”

 

There’s a moment of silence before everyone cracks up laughing, Evan the loudest of all. Levi looks embarrassed, but also resigned like this has happened many, many, many times before, which Connor suspects might be the case.

 

It takes a very, very long time for Evan to stop laughing. Connor’s genuinely concerned he’s having trouble breathing, he’s laughing so hard there are tears in his eyes and Connor fucking loves seeing Evan laugh, loves seeing him happy. It’s just… so great, standing here and laughing at this incredibly inappropriate story about two Jewish men in their 60s at his work holiday party with Evan.

 

“Now that my husband has completely humiliated me,” Levi announces, taking Jonah’s arm, “it might be time for us to go home.” He looks at Connor, face still red. “Thank you very much for inviting us. I understand if you don’t invite us again next year thanks to this one’s performance.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Connor says immediately. “You guys are coming to every party I throw at this place.”

 

“Pictures of Spider-Man,” Evan mumbles, still giggling. “Oh my fucking _god.”_

 

“Levi’s got excellent comic timing,” Jonah says as Levi guides him to the door. “He’s wasted as a lawyer. Wasted, I tell you.”

 

“Thank you and good night!” Levi calls out as he and Jonah leave.

 

With that, people start to depart on mass, leaving Connor, Evan, Leslie, Maureen, Jax and Zoe the only ones still there. It’s only about half-past eight, no one seems in a hurry to leave and there’s a lot of alcohol, so they decide to keep the party going. Jax plugs their phone into the store’s sound system and starts playing the most ridiculously random collection of songs and drags Maureen, Leslie and Zoe into the space they’d cleared for the party to dance.

 

Evan, who has declined the dance invitation, stands next to Connor at the food table and wraps his arm around his waist as they eat latkes and drink mulled wine. When Evan kisses Connor, he tastes like red wine and cloves and fried potato and he is just so fucking beautiful in the glow of the string lights hung all around the store. Connor has to kiss him again, and again and again, and then again until Leslie yells “get a room!” from the dance floor.

 

“I own the building!” Connor yells back, and kisses Evan again for good measure.

 

After a while, Evan heads upstairs to get more latkes from the oven as Connor does a bit of tidying up before he gets too drunk, and there’s a tap on his shoulder. He turns to see Maureen standing there, swaying on her feet a little. “Hey Connor,” she says, smiling widely.

 

“Hey,” Connor says, smiling back, and pours her a glass of orange juice. “Drink this.”

 

“You’re so nice,” she says, smiling even harder, and takes the glass off him. Her cheeks turn a little pink. “Okay so I’m drunk, which is why I’ve gotten up the courage to say this, but I’ve been wanting to talk to you for ages.”

 

Connor’s eyes widen in alarm. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Everything is great,” she says in a rush, cheeks turning pinker. “I’m really good. I wanted to thank you for hiring me? And for just… being cool, and having this bookstore that’s staffed entirely by queer book nerds? I feel like I’ve found my people.” She laughs a little awkwardly. “I don’t know if that’s weird to say.”

 

Connor feels something inside him get warm. “It’s not weird,” he says with a smile. “I get it.”

 

She takes a sip of orange juice, then nods enthusiastically. “Even before I knew I was a girl, I was always a huge book nerd,” she explains. “And my family are like… sports. All sports, all the time. I have brothers and they are all… really sporty, and I was not, and I had asthma and was skinny and weird and… then with the whole figuring out I wasn’t a boy thing, it was hard. Growing up. Not fitting in.” She frowns a little, then continues. “And, like, a lot of the queer friends I made first were like… party queers? That sounds so weird, I don’t think I’m making sense, but there was lots of… loudness and being loud and proud and queer and going to parties and rallies and things and I just… wanted to go home and read a book. And then I thought that I was maybe just bad at being queer?” She goes a little pink again, takes another sip of orange juice and continues. “But being here is… it means a lot to me. You and Leslie and Jax mean a lot to me. I don’t really… I don’t talk to my family. At all. They don’t… they don’t want me around. And I know it’s weird and a lot and not the same and a weird thing to say but I feel like there’s family here? Like this is a kind of home?” She laughs a little and Connor can see that her eyes are a little glassy. “Never mind, just ignore me-”

 

“I’m really glad,” Connor insists. “I’m really glad that this place feels like home to you.” He clears his throat. “It does to me. That’s why… that’s why I wanted to buy it and keep it going. I wanted to make sure it stayed like home, like a place where people can belong. It… it’s really nice to hear that you feel that way, Maureen.” He smiles a little wryly. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right.”

 

“You’re really brave,” Maureen says, her words coming out in a rush all at once. “You work so hard and you follow your dreams and you went through so much at the end of the summer and just… I think you’re really brave and really cool and I’m glad I know you.” She finishes her orange juice, then shrugs and ducks her head. “Anyway, now that I’ve drunkenly embarrassed myself in front of my boss-”

 

“Do you want a hug?” Connor blurts out.

 

Maureen nods, and he reaches down and hugs her for a moment. She’s sniffling a little, shaking a little, and Connor’s just hit with this huge rush of affection for her, of pride and respect, because he knows a little more about her now and knows that it hasn’t been easy for her, that she’s got a family who don’t support her and that she feels at home here, in this space that has always felt like home to him, and that was the point, that was the whole fucking point.

 

As much as he loves books, The Little Book Nook was always about more than that.

 

The evening concludes with them all drunkenly trying to clean things up in time for the next day’s shift after talking and eating and drinking and drinking and dancing and dancing and dancing. When everyone else finally leaves and it’s just Evan and Connor, Evan’s lips are on Connor’s almost immediately.

 

They tear off each other’s clothes as they make their way upstairs, Connor leaving a trail of bruising kisses along Evan’s neck, and when they get to the bedroom Evan pins Connor to the bed by his wrists, paying him back in kind with kisses of his own. Connor moans underneath Evan as he presses his body against him hungrily and Evan nips at his neck then smirks. “What do you want?” he asks, his voice low and hungry.

 

Connor can’t help himself. “Pictures of Spider-Man.”

 

The sound of Evan’s laughter echoes through his bedroom for what feels like hours, and warms him through to the core.

 

* * *

Mariah and Evan were bundled up and walking to their favorite coffee place on a break when she casually mentioned how she was debating volunteering to work on Christmas because she wouldn’t have anything else to do.

“You don’t do Christmas?” Evan asked.

“Nah, my parents sort of refused to participate once we moved to the states. Also, their restaurant makes bank on Christmas, so we usually all just worked. But flights are expensive so going home just to wait tables doesn’t seem totally worth it. I used to take a lot of pity invites from my white friends, but honestly that got so tedious, trying to explain that my parents aren’t, like, morally bankrupt communists because they don’t celebrate Christmas. Also last year I got drunk alone watching Hallmark movies.”

“Yikes.”

“I know. I was crying over Gretchen Weiners from Mean Girls and clutching my bottle of Jack. It was pathetic-ville, population me.”

“Dude, I am so sorry.”

“What about you? Aren’t you like, vehemently against Christmas?”

“I am not,” Evan said. “I just don’t… I am not one of those Jews who celebrates it just because the Christians have cornered the market.”

“Fair enough.”

A thought occurred to Evan. “Actually, any chance you want to come to Connor’s?” Evan asked. “Like I said, I don’t do Christmas but he’s kind of hosting a queer holiday… thing? It’ll be us and a few of the folks from the bookstore who will be in the city. It could be more fun that Hallmark movies?”

“Really? Are you sure? I don’t want to, like, intrude or whatever?” Mariah said, sounding a little bit anxious.

“You wouldn’t be, I swear. Everyone is really chill, and Connor’s making curry so… it’ll just be lowkey and vaguely Christmas-y?”

“I’d really like that,” Mariah said. “Can I bring anything?”

“Uh, if there’s any food you feel like bringing?” Evan said, shrugging. “Though Jax, one of Connor’s bookstore folks is vegan, but like obviously whatever you want to bring.”

“Dude, this is gonna be good. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“You’re welcome,” Evan said. “If nothing else, it’ll be nice to like… hang out outside of work?”

Mariah grinned. “We need to do that more.”

“Maybe that’ll be our New Year’s resolution.”

* * *

“Hey,” Asher appeared in Evan’s office doorway. “Charles and I wanna take you out for a drink tonight. You free?”

Evan blinked, surprised. His only plans had been to go over to Connor’s and stick his cold hands all over him until Connor either turned on the heater or made out with him or maybe both. “Uh yeah. Is everything… Why?”

“Because you’re our friend,” Asher said like it was that simple, and then said, “We’re going to the bar around the corner with the special on martinis. Six work for you?”

“Uh yeah. Sure.”

He texted Connor to let him know, and Connor responded, _“If you get propositioned for a three-way, I wanna talk to these guys.”_

_“Jesus Christ Connor.”_

_“Hey don’t bring my guy into this. You’re the one getting hit up for threesomes. Not that I’d blame them, of course, because you’re kind of legendary in bed. But I’m not terribly interested in sharing you.”_

Evan felt himself blushing super hard. He texted back to tell Connor he was too adorable for his own good, cleared his throat, and got back to work before he let himself get too distracted.

At six exactly, both Asher and Charles appeared in Evan’s doorway. The three of them threw on their jackets and made the short journey to the bar around the corner. Asher insisted on buying the first round, returning with a martini for each of them and a big, nervous smile.

“So… Evan. Charles and I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Ash, come on, let him have a sip of his drink first.”

“Dude, I cannot wait, I’m too nervous.”

Evan suddenly wondered if Connor was right and he was about to get propositioned for a threeway. He’d done it before, but it was absolutely not on the table with his coworkers… especially if Connor wasn’t invited. He felt himself starting to get red in the face and took a gulp of his drink to try to come up with a polite thanks-but-no-thanks response to the proposition.

“Evan, I want you to stand up in our wedding,” Asher said, like it had burst out of him. “You’re one of our closest friends and it would be, like, super fucking cool if you wanted to be in the wedding because like… you’re cool. God that was so lame. Anyway, will you do it?”

“Oh,” Evan said and he was smiling so hard suddenly. “You-you… you want me to stand up in your wedding? Like, be a groomsman or whatever?”

“Yeah,” Asher said. “Is that… like not cool or whatever?”

“We won’t be offended if you don’t want to…” Charles chimed in.

“Dude, oh my god, of course!” Evan said, smiling so hard he thought he might pull a muscle in his face. “I’d be honored, oh my god. Thank you! Yes, I’ll totally do it.”

Charles and Asher both gave him these big, happy smiles. “That’s… great, dude, bring it in man!” Asher, then Charles both hugged him. Evan laughed happily, delighted and surprised.

“Okay, so the wedding is going to be this summer. In the Hamptons. We’re starting to get into the thick of planning so… Honestly I’m super excited you’ll be there,” Charles said and Evan genuinely didn’t know that he and Charles were even that close but apparently they were and he was suddenly flooded with happiness: for them, for himself for having like actual friends.

“This is great, we totally asked Mariah last week but we made her promise us she wouldn’t tell you yet.”

“She’s standing up too?” Evan asked, smiling.

“Yeah, dude, it’ll be good. Though,” And now Asher playfully punched Charles and told him to stop laughing. “I guess we came across really weird when we asked because she thought we were going to suggest a threesome?”

Evan erupted in surprised laughter.

“I don’t know why, I mean, she knows we’re both gay!” Charles protested through giggles. “And if we were going to try to try it out with a woman, we sure as fuck wouldn’t pick one of our best fucking friends and risk making that super awkward.”

Evan laughed so hard his sides hurt. He immediately texted Connor, mostly to tell him that he would be standing up in Asher and Charles’s wedding, but also because he had to tell her Mariah had gotten the threesome vibe too. Connor responded with a triumphant “ _TOLD YOU SO_ ” and that just set Evan off giggling again.

To celebrate having managed to round out their wedding party (which also included Asher’s sister Carson as the Best Man on his side and Charles’s cousins Joshua and Thomas, and his frat brother Patrick), Asher insisted on buying them all another round. And then Evan had to buy a round to thank them for thinking of him. And then Charles bought another round to celebrate… Christmas?

Evan told them all about how last year was properly the first time he had ever done anything for Christmas, because he was “super Jewish.” “Connor and I watched this… Muppets movie? About ghosts and stuff and it was so cute.” Which caused Evan to start telling them about how his boyfriend Connor was putting together a “Mid-Winter Totally Not Christmas Party” because a couple of his employees had shitty transphobic families and how Connor was just such a good person.

“That’s fucking great,” Charles said. “Wait… did you say boyfriend? Did you and your cactus man finally get your shit together?”

“Did I not tell you guys that?” Evan said, embarrassed. “Fuck. Yeah since like September.”

“I just assumed after that picture your mom tagged you two in on facebook with the cat,” Asher said. “Since you’re making fucking goo-goo eyes at each other over the head of an adorable kitten.”

“Yeah… yeah. I was so fucking stupid.” He took another drink. “We were friends with benefits for almost a year and a half.”

“What?” Charles said. “That’s… that’s too long.”

“I know. I was so in love with him. I’m super fucking in love with him.”

“Awww Charlie, look, Evan’s in love!”

“Shut up, oh my god,” Evan said, giggling. “But yes.”

“I totally called it,” Charles said. “He brought you a cactus!”

“How is a cactus romantic?” Asher countered.

“Because Evan… likes plants! You know! He likes plants and whatever. I thought it was fucking cute.”

“He’s so fucking cute,” Evan said, sighing.

“Tell me more, tell me more,” Charles sang off key and laughing.

“He’s just… like the kindest person? I don’t know how he fucking does it. He just… cares about people genuinely? It’s just… it’s like being good to people doesn’t cost him anything and I love that about him so much?”

Eventually, all of them well and truly intoxicated, they parted ways and Evan took a Lyft to Connor’s place. He let himself in with his key, disarming and re-arming the alarm habitually before climbing the stairs up to his apartment. He could hear the shower running and he realized Connor was probably in the bathroom. Edgar trotted up to greet him and Evan lay down on the floor to pet him, because Edgar was so fucking cute, he was so adorable, and Evan thought crouching down was too much work. “Edgar Allan Paw, I love you. You’re great. You’re like a tiny little house panther.”

Edgar responded by purring and rolling over to show off his belly. Evan giggled at that, petting the soft fur and wow he just thought this tiny cat was great. “Edgar, you know you really helped Connor. Which is good because I love Connor because he’s wonderful and you’re wonderful and also a cat so you’re good.”

Edgar rubbed his little head against Evan’s hand.

“Yeah, you’re a good kitty. I love you, you make Connor happy and that’s good, that’s very good and you’re a very good boy. Very soft. I love you lots and lots and lots, yeah, you’re the softest cat ever.”

Edgar rubbed his face against Evan’s cheek, causing him to sneeze and then laugh at himself, and he rubbed Edgar behind the ears because he was such a good cat and he made Connor really happy and all Evan ever wanted was for Connor to be happy.

Then Evan realized he could hear laughing.

He looked up to see Connor watching him from the living room, his hair wet, dressed in warm pajamas and laughing.

Evan loved it so much when Connor laughed it made him so happy he could hardly stand it. “Hi,” He said, still fussing over Edgar. “I was just… saying hi to the cat.”

“You’re so fucking adorable,” Connor said.

“He is pretty cute, huh?” Evan said, scratching Edgar under his chin.

“Not the cat,” Connor said, still laughing. “You. You’re so adorable.”

“I am also…” Evan said, then blinked because he lost where he was going with that. “I’m drunk. I wanted to see you because I love you. You’re my favorite. Hi.”

“Hi,” Connor said, still grinning brilliantly. “You need any help getting up?”

Evan shook his head. Edgar was showing off his tummy again, so he pet it a few more times before carefully getting to his feet. Once upright, he held out his arms, announcing, “Ta-da!” which made Connor giggle even more.

“Hi,” Evan said, wrapping his arms around Connor, pulling him in close. “I missed you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Connor said, and he was grinning. “Did you have a good time with Asher and Charles?”

“Yeah. They want me to be in their wedding because they are my friends. That’s wild.” He put his cold hands on Connor’s back, snaking them under his shirt so they were against his bare skin. “I’m cold.”

“I’ll warm you up,” Connor said and he squeezed Evan tightly, kissing him once. “Can I make you something to eat?”

Evan liked that idea a lot. He was hungry. “Do you have any leftovers of that thing you made the other day? I dunno what it was but you know though, right? That one thing and it was really good. Do you have any of that?”

Connor was trying hard not to laugh and Evan thought that was super cute. Connor’s nose scrunched up and he was so cute and Evan knew he probably sounded silly but he didn’t care. “The potato soup?” Connor offered.

“Yes, that! You’re very good at food.”

Connor smiled and said he definitely had some of that left over. He sent Evan off to change out of his work clothes and Evan responded by kissing him and telling him he loved him and Connor smiled and said, “Go on and change.”

“You’re the best. You’re so nice and you cook.”

“Oh my god, go change!”

“You also have the prettiest eyes.”

“You are so drunk oh my god.”

“This is not me being drunk, it’s _you_ being _pretty_.”

“Go change,” Connor said with a laugh.

“But I love you!” Evan protested, burying his face in Connor’s neck. “And I’m cold.”

“I love you too,” Connor said, kissing the top of Evan’s head. “If you go change, I’ll make you food and that will warm you up. Then we can just relax okay?”

“Is it okay that I’m here? I should have asked first, that was dumb of me, do you still love me?”

“Of course I love you,” Connor kissed his cheek. “And I love that you’re here.”

That made Evan’s heart so fucking warm he thought he might fall over. He went into Connor’s room, locating some of his pajamas and changing. Edgar had followed him into the bedroom, jumping up on the bed and meowing to announce himself. Once Evan had escaped the confines of his tie, he sat down beside Edgar and kissed his tiny head and told him he was the “best cat in the history of forever.”

“Mrow.”

“I know, right? Connor’s the best. Ever. Best human.” Edgar purred in agreement. “Love you buddy. Good little cat.”

“Evan?”

“Hmm?” Evan looked up at Connor from where he was sprawled on the bed with Edgar curled up on his belly.

“Did you still want to eat?”

“Oh yeah,” Evan said, petting Edgar a few times. “I forgot. I was distracted by the kitty. I love him.”

Connor grinned so big that Evan had to get up and kiss him. So he very gingerly picked Edgar up and set him down on the bed before wrapping his arms around Connor and kissing him. “I love you so much, you are the best.”

“I love you too,” Connor said, smiling.

Connor made him drink three glasses of water with his food which was basically an ocean and then the pair of them cuddled up in bed together, half watching an episode of Jeopardy on Netflix. Connor kept giggling because even drunk, Evan was a master of Jeopardy questions.

“I’m good at trivia. It’s because I memorized -” he hiccupped “-all of those fun facts.”

“If we went to bar trivia, you’d be an assassin.”

“Totally,” Evan said, resting his head against Connor’s shoulder. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Evan woke up in Connor’s bed alone, his head aching a bit. There was a glass of water on the bedside table and some painkillers. Evan drank the water and swallowed the pills before gingerly climbing to his feet. He used the bathroom, washed his hands and his face, and then headed for the kitchen where he found Connor scrambling eggs at the stove.

“Good morning sunshine,” Connor said, far too happily.

“Morning,” Evan said. “Fuck I was really drunk last night. I’m so sorry.”

“You were fine,” Connor said, and he was still smiling. “You were adorable, really. You’re a very affectionate drunk.”

Evan felt his face heat up. “Sorry.”

“It was cute,” Connor insisted. “Do you want coffee?”

“I love you,” Evan said gratefully as Connor put a mug in front of him. “Best boyfriend in the history of history.”

Connor smiled at him. “I love you too. Do you remember laying on the floor and petting Edgar when you first got here?” Connor asked.

Evan shook his head. “It’s sort of blurry. Did we… did we watch Jeopardy?”

“Yes,” Connor said. He put a plate of eggs and turkey bacon in front of Evan. “You still kicked ass, even though you were drunk. Outscored the people actually on the episode. You told me you would audition for the show and win me a boat right before you passed out on my shoulder.”

“Fuck, I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Connor said, sitting beside him. “You’re getting me a boat. I’m very happy.”

“Fuck off,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. “You can’t even win a boat on Jeopardy, just money.”

“Then you can buy me a boat.”

“Shut up,” Evan said laughing. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

* * *

Connor wakes up on Christmas morning to Edgar Allan Paw batting at his nose with his paw repeatedly and Evan’s voice, telling the cat to behave himself.

 

“Edgar, come on, that’s not nice.”

 

“I’m awake,” Connor mumbles, reaching out to pet the cat who purrs happily, then sitting up and blinking a few times to see Evan putting a cup of coffee on the bedside table next to him. Evan smiles at him softly, then leans in and kisses him. “You made coffee?”

 

“Woke up early,” Evan confesses, kissing him again then climbing back into his side of the bed with his own cup of coffee. “Figured I’d let you sleep for a bit, but that you might want to be up for cooking purposes, seeing as people will be here around one.”

 

“What time is it?”

 

“Just past eight.”

 

Connor nods. “Plenty of time,” he says with a smile. “Plus, I prepped everything earlier. All I need to do is just put things in the slow cooker and turn it on, then we’re good.” He leans over and kisses Evan. “I love you. Thanks for the coffee.”

 

“It’s your coffee,” Evan says with a small laugh. “I got it from your cupboard.”

 

“But you made it,” Connor insists, wrapping an arm around Evan. “On a completely ordinary day in late December that holds no significance in the Jewish calendar at all. I love you.”

 

Evan smiles. “I love you too.”

 

Once they’ve finished their coffee, Evan announces he’s heading out to get bagels from the Secret Jewish Bagel Society and Connor takes the opportunity to put the slow cooker on. Then he goes to his spare room and pulls out the rice cooker he’d bought on sale a few days ago. He takes it into the kitchen, then takes it out of the box and puts it on the counter, ready to be used closer to their guests arriving.

 

Evan arrives with a box of bagels and looks at the rice cooker with interest. “Is that from your mom?”

 

Connor shakes his head. “I bought it for myself,” he admits. “Seemed like a useful thing to have. And, well, December 25 is a big deal to Catholics for some reason, so…”

 

Evan laughs and kisses him. “You gentiles and your weird traditions.” He puts the bagels on the kitchen table, then puts his arms around Connor’s waist and kisses him again, slow and long and deep, sending warmth all through Connor’s body. When they break apart, Evan’s eyes are dark and crackle with something familiar and enticing. “Anything else you need to do to get ready for this shindig?”

 

“Nothing urgent,” Connor replies with a grin. “Did you have something in mind to pass the time?”

 

“I can think of a few things.”

 

Before Connor can reply, Evan’s kissing him hard and pressing him against the fridge, then kissing his neck and pressing his body firmly against Connor’s. Connor feels his heart start beating faster and revels in the feel of Evan’s body against his, Evan’s lips on his neck, wrapping his arms around Evan and pulling him closer closer closer.

 

It’s not long before Evan’s maneuvering Connor into the bedroom, where Edgar is sitting on the bed curled up in a ball. Evan stops for a moment, then with an expression of utmost determination picks up the cat, who lets out an indignant meow as Evan carries him across the room, deposits him outside the door and closes it firmly before he can get back in.

 

“Good move,” Connor says with a grin. “Some things aren’t appropriate for little eyes.”

 

“I’m not letting your cat cockblock me,” Evan replies with a roll of his eyes before all but tackling Connor to the bed, pressing him against the mattress and holding down his wrists and kissing him, hot and wet and open and deep and Connor’s drowning in it, drowning in the taste and the feel of him. When Evan finally pulls away, he’s panting for breath. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

 

“I love you,” Connor gasps, reaching down to undo the fly of Evan’s jeans. “You’re amazing, I love you so fucking much.”

 

Evan groans as Connor reaches into his boxers to stroke him, eyes closed and lips parted, and Connor thinks he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. With his other hand, he runs his fingers through Evan’s hair then pulls him down toward him for a dirty kiss, taking Evan’s cock in his hand and stroking it firmly as he does, enjoying the sounds of Evan gasping and moaning above him.

 

“Fuck,” Evan moans, reaching for the bottom of Connor’s shirt. “I need you naked, like, immediately, fucking hell Connor you’re so hot, I love you so much.”

 

Connor reluctantly lets go of Evan’s cock and allows him to remove his shirt, but then takes the opportunity to work off Evan’s jeans, then his shirt, then Evan takes off his pants until they’re both finally naked. Evan’s fingers trace circles at the top of Connor’s hipbone lazily and Connor shudders at his touch, closing his eyes and letting himself revel in the feeling for a moment before pushing Evan onto his back and working his way down his body, leaving a trail of kisses from his neck to his pelvis, then licking the underside of Evan’s erection, enjoying the way Evan gasps.

 

“You like that?” Connor asks.

 

“Yes,” Evan pants. “You have the most gorgeous mouth, oh my fucking god, you-”

 

Evan stops talking as Connor’s lips wrap around his cock, sucking greedily, and Evan moans and tangles his hands in Connor’s hair, tugging softly. Connor moans around Evan’s cock and Evan’s hips buck in pleasure and Connor focuses his attention on making Evan moan and writhe and say his name, his voice getting more and more desperate as Connor keeps going. He’s determined he’s going to make Evan lose control, determined he’s going to make Evan lose his mind with pleasure, and the way Evan’s grip on his hair gets tighter and his moans get louder makes Connor think he’s going the right way about it.

 

“I love you,” Evan pants, and Connor looks up to see Evan’s head is thrown back in pleasure and he loves it, he fucking loves it, loves seeing Evan let go like this, loves knowing he’s the one making Evan feel so good, and he runs his tongue across the tip of Evan’s cock and gently massages Evan’s balls, focusing everything he has on making Evan feel good, making Evan moan and writhe and say his name. “Fuck, Connor, I love you so much, I-”

 

And then Evan’s coming and Connor swallows him down and watches Evan’s face, lost in pleasure, and it’s so fucking hot and he keeps Evan’s cock in his mouth as he rides out the orgasm and doesn’t pull away until Evan’s finally spent, his head on Connor’s pillow, his breathing slowly starting to even out.

 

Connor licks his lips and looks up at Evan with a soft smile. “You’re so beautiful. I love seeing you like that, you’re so… you’re just so beautiful.”

 

“I love you,” Evan replies, smiling so hard, so wide. “You’re just… I love you so much, you…”

 

Connor makes his way up the bed and lies down next to Evan and pulls him in for a kiss. Evan responds by wrapping his hand around Connor’s cock and stroking him slowly.

 

“You don’t have to-” Connor begins, but Evan kisses him before he can finish, and Connor moans as Evan keeps stroking him, running his thumb across the tip of his cock gently.

 

“Like I’d ever pass up the chance to make you come for me,” Evan says, his voice low and rough. “Like I’d ever pass up the opportunity to make you moan and gasp and writhe for me, Connor, you’re so fucking beautiful like this.”

 

“Evan,” Connor gasps, closing his eyes and sinking into the sensation, because Evan is so fucking good with his hands. “You’re… fuck, your hands, I love you so much.”

 

“You looked so good with my cock in your mouth,” Evan whispers into Connor’s ear, then nibbles at his earlobe and presses a kiss just below it. “You look so good like this, you’re so fucking beautiful, I love you so much.” He runs his teeth gently down Connor’s neck and Connor shivers and moans and gasps and it just feels so fucking good, Evan’s hands are so good his mouth is so good it all just feels so good.

 

“I love you,” Connor says, moans. “I love you so much.”

 

Evan kisses his neck again, more insistent. “Are you getting close?”

 

“Yes, oh my god, Evan.”

 

Connor can feel Evan’s lips curve into a smile against his neck. “Good. You’re so good, Connor, I love you so much, I want you to come for me, can you come for me?”

 

Connor lets out a moan and feels himself let go, his eyes closing as the orgasm floods through him, throwing his head back against the pillow, and all the way through it Evan’s voice is in his ear, telling him he loves him and how gorgeous he looks and Connor has to take a moment to catch his breath before finally opening his eyes and looking at Evan, who’s looking at him with so much love in his eyes that it’s a little overwhelming.

 

“You good?” Evan asks gently, and Connor realizes that he’s trembling a little.

 

“I just… I love you so fucking much,” Connor tries to explain, and from the look on Evan’s face, it’s clear he understands.

 

* * *

 

The first person to arrive for the Mid-Winter Totally Not Christmas celebration is, surprisingly, Evan’s workmate Mariah. She’s in a soft looking red sweater and jeans and gives Evan a tight hug immediately, then goes to hug Connor equally as tightly. Connor, who only really knows Mariah as Evan’s coworker and hasn’t really hung out with her outside of seeing her at Evan’s office, is a little taken aback, but just kind of goes with it.

 

He knows that Evan really likes Mariah, that Mariah is someone that has Evan’s back, and as far as Connor’s concerned that means she’s all good by him. As soon as Mariah lets go of him, Edgar’s rubbing his face at Mariah’s ankle and she immediately crouches down and starts making a fuss over him.

 

“You are so beautiful,” she coos, scratching him under the chin. “Aren’t you beautiful?”

 

“Your cat is such a diva,” Evan says to Connor with a slight roll of his eyes, but he’s smiling.

 

“He’s perfect,” Connor insists. “Mariah, do you want wine?”

 

“Absolutely,” she replies immediately, standing up and rummaging through her handbag. She pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels and two Tupperware containers and puts them on the kitchen table, then opens one of the containers to display a pile of what looks like rice paper spring rolls. “I’m not an amazing cook but gỏi cuốn are my go-to for pot luck things.”

 

“She brought them into work one time,” Evan says with a smile. “They’re really good.”

 

“One lot is just vegetables and the other has prawns,” she continues, pulling out bottles of various sauces from her handbag. “And these are for dipping.”

 

“Thank you,” Connor says, looking at the rolls with interest. “They look great. What are they called again?”

 

“Gỏi cuốn,” says Mariah. “They’re Vietnamese. But you can just call them rice paper rolls if you want.”

 

Connor manages to pour Mariah a drink just in time for a knock on the apartment door. He goes to let Jax and Maureen in, who’ve both arrived together. Maureen’s hair is lavender, which is clearly a recent change because it definitely wasn’t that color the last time Connor saw her. Both she and Jax look a little nervous but smile when they come in and both introduce themselves to Mariah and say hi to Evan.

 

Once everyone’s got a drink, Mariah sets about getting dipping sauces ready for the rice paper rolls and Jax puts out hummus and bread and they all sit around the table.

 

“These are vegan,” Mariah announces, pointing to the vegetable rice paper rolls. “And this dipping sauce is and so is that one, but those two aren’t. Cool?” With that, she grabs a prawn roll, dips it in the non-vegan dipping sauce and takes a bite.

 

“So these are Vietnamese,” Maureen says, looking at Mariah, “but you’re Chinese, right?”

 

“Yup,” says Mariah with a smile. “I dated a Vietnamese guy for a while and he taught me how to make these and I was like ‘finally, I have discovered something I can actually cook’.” She finishes off the rest of her roll then grins. “In my last year of law school I was so fucking sleep deprived that I decided it was a good idea to branch out into ‘fusion cuisine’ and went about, like, wrapping all the leftovers I had in my fridge in rice paper so I didn’t have to wash any dishes.”

 

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Evan responds immediately.

 

Mariah shrugs. “Eh. Spaghetti rice paper rolls were kinda weird, but leftover butter chicken? Excellent.” She grins. “Chili was kind of a mess, though. And things really started to get fucked up when I started experimenting with jello.”

 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Connor says with a shudder.

 

“Connor,” says Evan in a mock-scandalized tone. “It’s his birthday. Be nice.”

 

Maureen and Jax both start laughing simultaneously. Evan grins, then bumps Connor gently with his shoulder. Connor responds by leaning in and kissing him softly.

 

“My Jewish boyfriend is telling me to be nice to Jesus,” he comments with a grin. “Who’d have thought?”

 

“That’s right,” Maureen says with a nod. “Connor said you’re Jewish.” She shrugs. “My family is, like, super Catholic, but I’m kind of whatever.”

 

“I kind of lean toward Buddhism,” Jax admits, “but my family is more Pentecostal? Lots of Republicans. Makes for fun dinner conversations.”

 

Mariah shudders. “Ugh. Republicans.” She picks up the plate of vegetable rice paper rolls and passes them around. “Come on, team. No jello in these, I promise.”

 

Mariah, it turns out, is someone who is very, very good at keeping a conversation going and making sure everyone is included, which makes Connor pretty fucking relieved she’d come along, because he knows he sure as hell doesn’t have that skill. She asks both Jax and Maureen lots of questions about their backgrounds, their hobbies, and by the time the rice is finished cooking and they’re ready to eat, everyone’s had a decent amount to drink and Jax, Maureen and Mariah are thick as thieves.

 

From then on in, it’s just… easy.

 

They sit and eat and talk and drink and it’s easy, like they’ve all known each other for ages. Edgar is getting plenty of attention from everyone, especially Mariah who’s never met him but confesses she’s seen a lot of photos on the Little Book Nook Facebook page, which of course cues another discussion about Edgar’s right to social media privacy versus customer engagement going through the roof ever since Maureen started to document his adventures.

 

“People go nuts over him,” Maureen insists as she pours herself some wine. “They go nuts over him, then they come and visit the store and buy books. Honestly, he’s amazing for business.”

 

“That may be true,” Connor concedes, “but I still think that minors shouldn’t be all over social media. He’s just a baby.”

 

Evan sighs. “Connor, he is a cat.”  

 

“A baby cat.”

 

“He doesn’t even know what Facebook _is,”_ Maureen chimes in.

 

Evan rolls his eyes. “This is just about your irrational hatred of Facebook, admit it. It’s got nothing to do with Edgar at all.”

 

“I really do hate Facebook,” Connor admits.

 

“Why?” Mariah asks. “It’s great for keeping tabs on people. Stalking exes. Finding out that people you went to high school with are getting pooped on now.”

 

“Are they getting pooped on because they spawned or because they’ve made bad life choices?” Jax asks, their expression fake-innocent, and Mariah cackles with laughter.

 

“Connor’s profile picture is a _bong,”_ Evan tells the group, before taking a long sip of whisky. “He’ll be twenty-nine years old in a few months. He runs a business. And his profile picture is a bong.”

 

“Oh my god,” Mariah says, laughing even more. “That’s fucking hysterical, oh my god. Evan, could you imagine if you or I had a bong as our profile picture? Would we get disbarred for that, do you think?”

 

“Fucked if I know,” Evan replies with a shrug and a smile. “My Facebook’s pretty innocuous.”

 

“You have a lot of pictures of your cat on it,” Mariah replies immediately.

 

Evan rolls his eyes. “Not my cat.”

 

“Admit it,” Connor teases, “you’re basically Edgar’s other dad.”

 

Evan sighs. “Again, why must you refer to your cat as your son?”

 

“You lay on the floor and told Edgar you loved him for like twenty minutes last weekend,” Connor points out.

 

Evan turns bright pink. “I had been _drinking_ with Charles and Asher. I would have said the same thing to a streetlamp.”

 

Connor bumps his shoulder against Evan’s gently. “Come on. You love Edgar, really.”

 

Evan looks at him and his whole face softens. “I love _you.”_

 

Connor can’t help it. He has to kiss him. Even if it is in front of two of his employees and Evan’s colleague. Evan’s just… too amazing not to be kissed right now.

 

Everyone chips in to get the dishes done and then the five of them relocate to the living room and Connor puts the apple pie in the oven and brings out a chocolate cheesecake, apologizing to Jax that it has dairy in it. Maureen heads back to the kitchen and pulls out a container of what looks like fudge, explaining that it’s vegan and handing it to Jax. Connor notices, with slight interest, that Jax goes a little pink when Maureen hands it to them and thanks her sincerely.

 

“Okay,” Connor announces. “Despite not being a Christmas celebrator, Evan has insisted that we watch A Muppet Christmas Carol.”

 

Evan blinks. “I did? When?”

 

Connor grins. “When you went out with Charles and Asher and got horribly drunk,” he reminds him, putting his laptop on the coffee table. “You said that it was a cute movie and that we should watch it at Christmas.”

 

Jax nods emphatically. “Oh man, I fucking love The Muppets.”

 

“I’ve never really seen them,” Maureen admits, and Jax’s eyes widen.

 

“You’ll love it. They’re awesome. Anyone who says The Muppets are just for kids can go fuck themselves, they’re weird and surreal and bizarre and uplifting all at the same time.” They look at Maureen. “We should hang out and watch The Muppet Show together sometime. The original, not the remakes.”

 

“Okay,” Maureen agrees, and soon they’re all settled in to watch the film.

 

Connor wraps his arm around Evan, who curls up next to him on the sofa, resting his head on his shoulder. Every now and then, Evan presses a kiss to Connor’s shoulder or collarbone, and Connor thinks back to how Evan came and spent the entire day with him last Christmas, back when they were still deluding themselves that they were just friends. How he’d dropped everything to make sure Connor wasn’t alone on a holiday he didn’t even celebrate.

 

“Hey,” Connor whispers quietly to Evan as Statler and Wardolf haunt Michael Caine. “Guess what?”

 

Evan’s eyes shine as he looks at him, his face soft. “What?”

 

“I love you.”

 

Evan kisses him softly. “I love you, too.”

 

* * *

It started off when Alex and Mattie told him their old roommate Charlie would be in town for New Years and asked if he minded Charlie staying over. Evan, naturally, didn’t mind at all. But from there the whole thing snowballed, and suddenly “Charlie is visiting over New Year’s Eve” had turned into “We’re throwing a rooftop NYE party, you should bring your friends.”

“What do you think?” Evan asked Connor. “Are we too old to party with the doctors?”

“Absolutely not,” Connor replied quickly. “But… Are you sure a party on your roof is a good idea?”

Evan had made his peace with the roof. It wasn’t like going up there had been the reason he had been compelled to jump. “I don’t think it would be an issue for me,” he said gently. “But if you would be uncomfortable then obviously we wouldn’t go…”

Connor smiled at him, this warm, soft smile. “Okay. But we’re sticking near the middle.”

“Of course.”

Connor smiled at him then, this big dorky smile. “Remember when you didn’t _do_ parties?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I love you.”

“Evan Hansen: 1, Social Anxiety: 0.”

Evan kissed him again and again, and Connor, frustratingly kept pulling away to comment on his “growth” and mumbling stuff about “overcoming adversity” while burying his face in Evan’s neck and Evan ended up pinning Connor back against his sofa and kissing him hard just to get him to knock it off with the cheesy compliments.

Alex and Mattie were very very impressive about getting everything organized despite having truthfully horrible schedules. They started prepping food as soon as they both returned from Mattie’s dad’s for Christmas, they had a truly impressive amount of booze ordered, and they had even managed to rent those outdoor heat lamps to keep the party from being a frigid buzzkill. Evan, encouraged after Christmas, invited Mariah, Asher, and Charles from work. Connor invited Zoe and also extended an invite to Andi, though he hadn’t heard back from her as to whether or not she was actually going to be attending.

The night of the party, Connor closed up shop a little early because nobody was buying books on December 31st after six o’clock or so he claimed. He had set Edgar up with a timed feeder and a lot of toys to keep him occupied until Connor got back the next day. He and Evan made their way to Evan’s place, throwing themselves into helping Alex and Mattie get things set up. It was pleasant enough on the roof with all of the heaters; not too cold. They ferried food up to tables that had been set up, and Alex and Evan stopped in on Mr. Abrahamson to bring him something to eat since they both suspected (correctly) that he would be ringing in the New Year on his own.

Around eight o’clock, people began to arrive. Evan and Connor stuck around the apartment, buzzing people inside and directing them to the roof. Evan suspected Connor was less okay with being on the roof than he had originally claimed… but also Connor seemed to be interested in making out with him while they waited for folks to show up. That was exactly what the two of them were doing when there was a knock at the door. Evan kissed Connor once more before breaking away to open the door.

He didn’t know Charlie. They had never met in person. But Evan knew what he looked like from photos, and it was sort of weird to see him suddenly there in the flesh. He smiled awkwardly at Evan, and Evan… Evan recognized some of the tiredness in his eyes. “Charlie, right?” Evan said.

“Yeah. You’re the lawyer?”

“Yeah. Evan,” He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.” They shook hands. “This is my boyfriend Connor.”

“Nice to meet you,” Connor said, shaking Charlie’s hand too.

“You too,” Charlie said softly. “Are they here? Alex and Mattie?”

“Upstairs,” Connor volunteered.

“Do you want to drop your stuff in one of our rooms so they don’t get trampled on when people come down here to pee?”

Charlie nodded vaguely, his eyes fixated on the bare patch of wall where there had once been a mirror. He noticed Evan looking after a moment, then gave him a sort of painful looking smile. “I… There was a mirror there,” He said.

“Uh. Yeah. Mattie broke it… last year?” Evan said.

Charlie looked… relieved at that. “Right. Broke. It broke.” He gave Evan a poor impression of a smile.

“Everything okay?” Evan asked because something about this dude was seriously unnerving him.

“Just weird. Being back here.” He gave Evan a slightly more convincing smile. “Just going to drop this…” He turned, as if he was going to head into Evan’s room. Shook his head, muttering something to himself, and instead dropped his bag in Mattie’s bedroom. “I’m gonna go say hi to Alex and Mattie. Nice meeting you.”

Charlie headed out.

Evan turned to look at Connor, who was frowning. “That guy…”

“I know.”

“He did not seem super jazzed about being here.”

“He didn’t.” Evan bit his lip. “Did… him asking about the mirror was weird, right?”

Connor shrugged. “Wasn’t it his?”

“Yeah, but…” Evan frowned. “Yeah. It was.”

But before long, Mariah had arrived and specifically came to the apartment so she could force Charles and Asher to do shots with her and Evan and somewhere along the line, Zoe had arrived and she and Mariah were happily chatting and Evan grinned over at Connor. “Did I ever tell you I sort of tried to set them up?”

“What?” Connor looked gobsmacked.

“Zoe asked if I knew anyone for her but then this summer happened.”

Connor tilted his head, considering it. “I guess I could see it?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, smiling. “They’re both great. I dunno. They could be cute together?”

“It would be nice if Zoe was with someone I knew wasn’t an asshole,” Connor said, smiling a little. “Unlike fucking Craig.”

“Is that goats guy?” Evan asked.

“Yes. Fucker.”

“Evan!” Mariah said, smiling and throwing an arm over him. “This party is awesome.”

“The party,” Evan said. “Is up on the roof.”

“No shit, really?” Mariah said. “Well come on team, we should go!” She grabbed Zoe by the hand and then Asher by the elbow and, smiling, Evan and Connor grabbed their jackets and followed her lead. They locked up the apartment and headed for the elevator, everyone giddy from Mariah’s whisky shots and Evan found Connor’s hand in the crowded elevator, squeezing it tight tight tight as the doors open and all of them stumble out onto the roof.

Alex screamed when she saw them, swooping down to hug Evan and Connor, Mariah and Zoe, Asher and Charles. She started to introduce them to her various doctor friends, then announced that there were “too many of them” and instead dragged them out onto an improvised dance floor in the middle of the roof. It was crowded and warm and Evan noticed Connor was sort of frowning.

“What?”

“I just… Are you sure you’re okay?”

Evan nodded. Pulled him in for a kiss, long and soft and warm. “Yes,” He said certainly. “We’re making good memories up here tonight.”

Connor smiled at him. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Evan said, kissing him again and again and again until Connor was giggling and hugging him hard. “So fucking much.”

The pair of them ended up getting dragged into a game of “cham-pong” as Mattie insisted on calling it with her and Charlie. Evan and Connor, it turned out, had no chance against the reflexes of doctors and were very giggly from the bubbly prosecco they had to drink with each ball Charlie and Mattie landed.

“You two suck at this,” Charlie commented after a while, smiling.

“We did not have friends in high school,” Evan said.

“Really, we’re victims of our circumstances.”

They lost a second game before Mattie announced she needed worthier opponents. “These clowns cannot compete with my skills,” She said, giggling.

“How dare you call them clowns!” Mariah shouted from the dance floor. “Asher!” She said, grabbing him. “You and Charles go and defend Evan’s honor!”

They apparently did not need telling twice. Asher and Charles both squared up their shoulders and headed over to Charlie and Mattie. They reracked the table and then they were off. Asher and Charles were admittedly amazing. They sunk almost every ball easily, and Mattie’s trash talk subsided substantially.

“Unfair,” Charlie called, laughing a bit. “These two were definitely in a frat in college!”

“Sigma Chi, baby!” Asher shouted, and then Charles pulled him in for a kiss and that just set everyone off laughing or wolf whistling or wooing.

“Are you cold?” Evan asked Connor, taking his hand. His fingers felt a bit cold, and Evan rubbed Connor’s icy hand between his warm ones.

“It’s not even that cold!” Connor said, nearly knocking Evan over in his rush to stick his freezing fingers down the neck of Evan’s coat. The pair of them held onto each other, off balance and laughing, until they managed to right themselves properly.

Mariah retracted her statement against them being clowns and they joined her and Zoe in a lively discussion about Harry Potter. Two Slytherins, a Ravenclaw, and poor Zoe, the lonely Gryffindor, all discussing at length how J.K. Rowling was trying to ruin the fucking series. “Oi, we need a Hufflepuff over here!” Mariah shouted to the crowd at large. “I want a ‘Puff’s opinion on Fantastic Beasts, stat.”

Asher appeared moments later, the aforementioned Hufflepuff, throwing his hat into the ring in defense of Fantastic Beasts. Zoe and Connor both started to crack up as the conversation got more and more heated, especially when Evan pointed out that Johnny Depp’s appearance in the second film really harmed public perception of the franchise and Asher slammed his hand on the table, saying, “Objection, relevance!” and Mariah, cackling, declared Asher’s objection overruled.

“Mariah,” Evan said seriously. “You would be. Such a good judge.”

“Oh my god, you’re right,” Asher said nodding and smiling a bit manically. “You’d look hot as fuck in the robes too.”

“She would,” Zoe agreed and Mariah winked and her and then Connor was laughing again and that was Evan’s absolute favorite and he just had to kiss him, immediately, so he stumbled over to his boyfriend and kissed him.

“Get a room,” Asher joked and Evan flipped him off and everyone laughed.

Their group splintered off, Asher and Charles getting into a long conversation with Alex’s friend from work about malpractice law and Zoe and Mariah returning to the dance floor, getting closer and closer with each song.

“They are definitely going to hook up,” Connor commented drily.

“Oh without a doubt,” Evan agreed. He took Connor’s hand, squeezing it. “Are you having a good time?”

“Yeah,” Connor said, smiling. “But I am a little cold.”

Evan smiled back at him harder. “Oh?” He said, his eyebrows up.

“Yeah, a little bit…” Connor replied.

“Maybe we ought to head inside and warm up a little?” Evan suggested, smirking and then Connor was kissing him hard, feverishly, and basically pulling him bodily back toward the elevator.

They made out the whole elevator ride, Connor pushing Evan back against the wall of the elevator, pressing his cold hands onto Evan’s neck and snaking them up the front of his shirt. Evan was already hard by the time he reached his apartment’s door, fumbling with the keys because Connor was pressed against him from behind, breathing into his ear and kissing the back of his neck, making him shiver and his skin erupt in goosebumps that had nothing to do with the temperature outside.

The door finally unlocked, Evan and Connor hurried inside, Connor pushing Evan’s jacket off the moment they got in the door, hands groping for his chest, back, shoulders. Evan pulled Connor into his bedroom, closing and locking the door for good measure, and Connor kissing him hungrily, needily, pressing him back against the door, towering over him in a way that was just so damn hot.

“Do we have time for this?” Evan asked, pulling away slightly. “It’s almost eleven -”

“Stop talking,” Connor groaned, kissing him again, harder still, his hands pulling Evan’s shirt up over his head. Evan melted into his, raising his arms to make things go easier and Connor’s cold fingers danced up and down his ribcage, eyes still pinning him back against the door. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” He said, his voice rough, and then he kissed Evan again, and Evan pushed off Connor’s jacket, unbuttoned the front of his shirt, his hands sliding up his chest, then down again to cup him through his jeans and Connor groaned, and Evan took the moment he was distracted to pushed them back toward the bed, and they broke apart to undress the rest of the way, shoes discarded haphazardly, jeans kicked off, underwear thrown to the floor. They reached for each other’s cocks almost in unison, both of them grinning stupidly before their smiles turned to groans and then Connor kissed Evan hard and pushed him onto the bed. He climbed on top of Evan and kissed his neck, Connor’s lips tracing his collarbone and Evan’s hands ran up Connor’s sides, his hips, tangled in his hair, and Connor’s teeth grazed Evan’s neck, making Evan sigh, and he leaned closer to Evan’s ear and said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Evan said breathlessly.

“I wanna fuck you,” Connor murmured. “Can I?”

“Yes,” Evan gasped, shuddering, his hips bucking. “God, _yes_ , please.”

Connor grinned at him, a teasing smile, before kissing him softly, “You’re getting a little needy.”

“Yeah,” Evan said breathlessly. “I am. I really like it when you top me.”

“Fuck,” Connor said, kissing him harder. He pulled away, almost reluctantly, reaching for the lube and condoms from Evan’s bedside table. He nudged Evan’s legs apart as he poured lube onto his fingers, and Evan let his legs bend at the knee, open for Connor. Connor smiled at him, so big and bright and fucking beautiful and Evan told him so, told him “You’re so fucking beautiful, oh my god,” and Connor pressed his finger inside of Evan. Evan whined at the sensation, his eyes slipping closed, and Connor’s lips kissed his neck, his collarbone, his cheek and then the other, and Evan felt like he was chasing Connor’s lips with his, distracted and overwhelmed as Connor pressed in a second finger.

Evan reached for Connor’s cock, heavy and warm in his hand, and he curled his fist around Connor, stroking him. Connor groaned, his fingers fucking Evan harder now, hooking up and pressing against him, causing Evan to moan, his eyes closed tightly.

“God, I love you so much,” Connor said breathlessly. “I… fuck, Evan, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Evan said. He whimpered slightly as Connor’s fingers hooked inside him again. “Fuck, Connor, fuck, can you - can you _please_?”

“Yeah,” Connor said, nodding frantically. He pulled his fingers out of Evan and Evan whined.

“Please Connor,” He said, desperate, panting. “Fuck, please.”

Connor kissed his cheek softly, smiling. “Needy.”

Evan did not care, he did not give a single fuck about whether or not he was coming off as needy. He was desperate, he needed Connor inside him, he needed Connor to fuck him, “Please Connor,” he rasped. “Please. I love you. Please fuck me. Please.”

Connor kissed him once more, soft tongue then his teeth gently biting Evan’s bottom lip and he finally pulled away to roll the condom over himself and Evan took a breath, he could feel himself shaking, anxiously anticipating Connor’s cock inside him.

“You’re shaking,” Connor said softly, his hand pulling at Evan’s hip, pulling him closer. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, nodding, smiling. “I am. I’m great.”

Connor grinned. “Can I fuck you now?”

“Yes,” Evan said and then Connor’s cock was pressed against him, poised to press inside. “God, Connor, _please_.”

“Tell me what you want,” Connor said, and he was grinning wickedly, and Evan regretted every time he had ever done this to him, every time he had ever made Connor ask for it, wait for it, because it was maddening, it was dizzying, and Evan could almost cry with frustration at having this beautiful man press his hard cock against his ass and not fuck him until he couldn’t walk.

“Fuck me,” Evan begged. “Please please Connor, please fuck me, I need you to fuck me, please -”

Connor smiled at him, pleased, and pressed a kiss to Evan’s temple before finally, finally pushing inside of him. Evan cried out, relieved and overwhelmed and fuck, Connor felt so good. The first time Connor fucked him, he was so careful, practically gentle, going so fucking slowly and carefully and Evan appreciated it then but he appreciated it more now that Connor wasn’t doing that tonight. He was fucking Evan hard and deep, making him curse and moan, and fuck, Connor was fantastic, he was amazing, and Evan realized he was babbling, he was just carrying on, “You’re so fucking amazing, fuck, Connor, fuck, I love you so much fuck you feel so good you make me feel so good oh my god -”

“God, Evan,” Connor said, kissing his neck, his collarbone, his chest. “Fuck, I love it when you’re vocal like this.” He thrust in deeper, and Evan rolled his hips and Connor groaned, “Fuck, I love you, I love hearing you.”

Evan felt his face flushing, he had never felt so fucking exposed. He kept arching into Connor’s thrusts, and Connor kissed his cheek, telling him he loved him, telling Evan he was taking Connor’s cock so well, “so tight, so gorgeous, fuck,” and Evan wasn’t going to last, he wasn’t going to last long at all, fuck. “Jesus, Evan,” Connor said, adjusting the angle in a way that made Evan swear and tighten around Connor. Their bodies found a rhythm, crashing together, fingers tangling, mouths open and panting against each other. Evan felt sweat collecting on his upper lip, his hairline, and when he kissed Connor, he tasted like salt. Evan freed one hand, reaching until his fingers were in Connor’s long hair, and he held his face and just looked at him, just looked at Connor, his eyes blazing, his expression determined but sometimes, if Evan rolled his hips a certain way, arched his back a certain way, it would all dissolve into closed eyes and slack jaw and moans. God, Evan just loved him so much. So fucking much he was almost afraid it would consume him, burn him up from the inside.

Connor kissed his neck again, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin and he was definitely going to leave a bruise and then he pressed a gentle kiss against the spot and Evan let out an “ah” of surprise and Connor pressed his forehead against Evan’s for a second. “You’re so beautiful,” Connor said.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Evan said genuinely, taking in Connor’s blown pupils and flushed cheeks and chest. “You’re so gorgeous. Fuck, you’re so perfect, so amazing, fuck. I am so completely, completely yours oh my god.”

Connor kissed him hard then. “I love you.”

“I love you so much,” Evan said, reaching between them for his cock, stroking himself and groaning. “Fuck, _Connor._ ”

“You’re close aren’t you?” Connor said, his thrusts driving and hard and fuck, Evan could feel him everywhere, claiming him and he loved it, he loved Connor so much.

“Y-yes,” He choked out.

“God, Evan,” Connor said and he buried his face in Evan’s neck. “Fuck, I love you. I love you… Fuck,” he moaned loudly, and his grip on Evan’s hips tightened, Connor’s hips snapping faster and more erratically and he came. His thrusts slowed, became more shallow, and he took hold of Evan’s cock, his fingers rubbing across the slit and then Evan gave into the pleasure, coming hard into Connor’s hand, biting down on his lip and moaning as he finished, streaks of come hitting his chest and Connor’s.

Connor smiled at him, kissing his forehead and his cheek. He pulled out Evan and Evan swore, feeling sore and empty. “We did not think this through,” Connor commented, rolling off of Evan to throw the condom away.

“Hmm?” Evan said, not following.

“We forgot about the cleanup,” Connor said.

Evan laughed a bit helplessly. “There’s… there’s a towel on the door that I have to wash anyway,” He said giggling. “Will that work?”

“Yeah,” Connor said and he walked over, wiping off his hand and his chest before he brought the towel to Evan and cleaning his chest and hips up.

Connor collapsed beside Evan, pulling him close, so Evan’s face was buried in his neck, so he could feel Connor’s heartbeat under his hand. Connor kissed his forehead, held him tight, and said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Evan said softly. “So much. So fucking much.”

They stayed that way for a bit, legs tangled together, Connor’s fingers tracing patterns on Evan’s skin and Evan’s doing the same. Their breathing slowed, evened out, and then Evan remembered something.

“Fuck,” he said, sitting up. “What time is it?”

Connor mumbled, “Shit,” and the pair of them went looking for their phones.

12:09.

“We missed it,” Connor said. “Fuck, I’m sorry, we missed it.”

Evan shook his head. “We didn’t miss anything,” he said, kissing Connor. “This _is_ it.”

Connor brightly smiled. “Oh my god, I love you.”

“I love you too.” He smiled at Connor. “Besides, I can’t think of a better way to ring in the new year.”

“You are… such a dork,” Connor said, pulling Evan in for a hug, arms tight around him. “Happy new year, Evan.”

“Happy new year.”

Eventually, they put their clothes back on, bundled back in their jackets. They rejoined the party, fingers intertwined, smiling and laughing.

Evan meant what he had said.

They hadn’t missed anything.


	25. January (One Year and Eleven Months After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So these nipples... Are their curative powers well documented?”

 

Evan woke up with a sore throat. Everyone in his office seemed to have been coming down with some kind of gross, vaguely defined lawyer-flu in the last few weeks, where their voices got scratchy and their noses turned red and they generally griped at everyone while doubling their coffee intake.

He had been pretty diligent about hand washing and making sure to eat properly (well, _Connor_ had been making sure that Evan ate properly, Evan mostly just ate whatever was put in front of him), but he was still feeling kind of worn down. Nothing to be done about it though, so Evan kept his head down and just figured he would work through it.

He tried his best, but after nearly a week, Evan found himself dealing with a persistent cough and a tiredness he couldn’t shake no matter how many over the counter cold medications he took so he texted Alex and asked if she thought it sounded like anything he ought to be worried about.

_“Probably just the flu that’s going around. Sorry hon. Try to rest up as best you can!”_

Evan was admittedly very shit at resting up. He worked at least ten hours most days, crashed at Connor’s once that week because the thought of traveling those last few blocks home felt like too much… But Connor kept asking if he was alright because he kept rubbing his temples and coughing, and Evan just shrugged, saying he had a stupid cold that he couldn’t seem to shake. Connor smiled sympathetically and insisted on making soup for Evan that night.

Evan figured that eventually, he’d just start to feel better.

Evan figured wrong.

After a week, he felt worse rather than better. He ran a low grade fever for a while, felt achey. Mattie texted to ask if he was alright, saying she had heard him up during the night coughing, did he want to drop by when she was at work in the clinic that night? He desperately wanted to just go home and sleep for a full day, but he had court to prep for, an arbitration to run, so he made himself work until five and then went directly home and to sleep.

Evan slept badly.

He kept half waking up, half dreaming, his subconscious taking a joy ride through his memories of dying dying dying, the feeling that he was falling, off a roof, out of a tree, and landing hard, hurt. He woke up with a gasp, his head and heart pounding, his left arm held protectively to his chest.

Evan texted Connor but he didn’t hear anything back right away.

He didn’t want to think about it but it kept crashing upon him, wave after wave.

When he broke his arm, his boss at the park had to drive him to the hospital. He wasn’t able to wait until someone else could keep an eye on Evan, he had to get back, so he waited until a doctor could see him and headed out.

Before he broke his arm he had called his mom and got her voicemail and he thought maybe it would be comforting for the last thing he would hear from would be her outgoing message, _“Hi you’ve reached Heidi Hansen. I’m not able to take your call, but please let me a brief message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a good day.”_

Evan had landed on his arm at seventeen, breaking his fall and breaking the bones in his forearm. He waited, having rolled onto his back, dazed, for footsteps, for a yell from someone who had seen, for somebody to come and get him.

Nobody, nobody came.

He had to pick himself up off the ground, had to to walk himself slowly, gingerly to the ranger station, his arm sort of numbly hanging at his side, a cut oozing blood at his elbow and his knees stinging, burning from their impact with the ground. He limped to the ranger station and his boss had exclaimed, “What the hell happened?” and Evan had blinked a few times before he mumbled that he’d fallen out of a tree.

He got an ice pack from their freezer and wrapped it in a paper towel, saying he was taking Evan to the hospital and he told Evan to call his mom. And Evan only really did it because he was told to, because he wasn’t even really there, he was at the top of the tree deciding to let go still but he mechanically called his mom and it went to voicemail and he followed his boss out to his car and realized, to his horror, that he was bleeding all over the leather interior of his boss’s car and that was so fucking rude, that was terrible, he was bleeding and inconveniencing his boss…

His boss helped him fill out his paperwork because his arm was broken and bleeding, and he borrowed Evan’s phone to try his mom a few times, and Evan kept hoping, praying, that he would wake up wake up wake up because this couldn’t really be what was happening and then his boss left him there, alone, in the ER because he had to get back to the park.

The nurse who got stuck with him was really really nice, but that just made it worse. She gave him some Tylenol for the pain and called his mom again while they took him to have his broken arm X-rayed. At seventeen, Evan’s stupid brain decided his mom wasn’t answering because she just didn’t care about him, and it took that thought and ran with it for the next ten fucking years.

The cut on his elbow had to be stitched up and the doctor who set his arm kept acting like Evan was seven, not seventeen. He had bounded in all excited, asking Evan what his favorite color was and was that the color he wanted his cast to be and Evan had totally lost it, just totally and completely lost it and laughed at the guy and told him to fuck off and that’s, naturally, when his mom finally showed up and she looked so fucking guilty and so embarrassed that Evan had swore at an adult, that she hadn’t gotten there sooner, and it didn’t even occur to Evan to tell her what really happened. _“Shit, Evan what did you do to yourself?”_

And now he was an adult, properly, laid up with a fucking cold and he felt like garbage because he had texted Connor but hadn’t heard back and his stupid fucking brain just kept telling him it was because he didn’t care about Evan and nothing Evan could do would let him think his way out of that.

He tried to sleep some more but the coughing made that impossible and after he coughed up phlegm streaked with blood, Evan broke down and texted Mattie. “I’m in the free clinic until 9:00, please come here right away you sound like shit,” She said when she called him rather than texting back. “If you don’t get down here, I’ll send Alex back with her Mary Poppins bag. I don’t think you’re all that into DIY home doctoring.”

“Okay,” Evan croaked. “I’m on my way.”

He stared at his phone for a minute, considering…

Connor would want to know this. So he called Connor. Got his voicemail but didn’t leave a message. His mouth tasted a bit like metal, and he could practically hear the echo of his mother’s own outgoing message,“ _Hi you’ve reached Heidi Hansen. I’m not able to take your call, but please let me a brief message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a good day._ ”

Evan shook his head. It wasn’t that important, Evan thought. It didn’t matter. He was just going to the doctor.

So Evan put on his shoes and his winter coat and hat, gloves, and scarf, and got on a subway to the free clinic where Mattie worked and he signed himself in and had a seat in the waiting room and hated how familiar the sterile environment and loneliness felt. His arm twinged, even though that wasn’t what was wrong with him. His chest hurt and Evan wasn’t sure if that was from the cold he couldn’t fight off or his own loneliness manifesting itself as chest pain.

The waiting room was packed and Evan found himself nervously picking at his cuticles while he waited, trying hard not to catch the eye of anyone else in that waiting room, trying to tamp down the feeling of loneliness and failure that he had come to associate with waiting rooms, the swooping insistence that he had fucked up and everyone was being polite to acknowledge it, that this couldn’t be undone and -

His phone buzzed in his pocket and Evan blinked a few times. His left index finger was bleeding; he’d pulled too aggressively at a hangnail. Fuck. Evan shivered, grabbing a tissue and wrapping it around his bleeding finger before he grabbed his phone, distantly noticing that he was shivering even with his winter jacket on indoors. Evan read Connor’s text, another swooping hollow feeling taking him by surprise, _“Sorry today was super busy, just saw that I missed your call! You’re still feeling sick? I’m sorry. Can I bring you some soup or something?”_

Evan frowned, annoyed that this was the first time Connor had checked in, annoyed that there was anything worth checking in about, wishing he had just stayed home. _“I’m at the doctor actually. Mattie insisted I come in or Alex would try to doctor me from home again. Still feeling pretty crappy.”_

_“Fuck, why didn’t you say something? Text me the address?”_

Evan didn’t want to but he was too tired to argue so he sent the address along and rested his head back against the wall in the waiting room, still shivering a bit, feeling like if he opened his eyes he would find himself staring at his boss from Ellison State Park, or worse, his seventeen year old self with a freshly broken arm and a mom who wasn’t answering her telephone. He kept his eyes shut, scared that if he opened them things would get weird, would get worse, scared if he opened his eyes he would be staring into his bathroom mirror almost two years ago -

“Evan Hansen?” A nurse called his name.

He opened his eyes and got to his feet slowly.

“You can come on back.”

He followed her into an exam room, where the nurse took his vitals. She made polite conversation while she did, asking what he did and where he lived and mentioned offhand that her girlfriend was on the community board for his neighborhood, _maybe he had met Alana before?_ when Mattie appeared in the room after a little while, and she was frowning.

“Hey Evan,” she said, trying to smile at him while she looked down at the tablet in her hand. “You’ve got a fever. It’s pretty low grade, but you said you’re coughing, you’ve got a sore throat, an earache, and you’ve got a headache?”

Evan nodded.

“And you’ve had it for a while?”

He nodded again. “A few days. I thought it was a cold but I can’t seem to shake it.”

Mattie nodded and Evan’s phone buzzed. Connor texted him to let him know he was in the waiting room.

“Let me have a listen to your lungs,” Mattie said, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck. “Deep breath in for me?” Evan complied. “Yeah those sound like crap for sure. Definitely got some fluid in there. It might just be bronchitis, which would clear up on it’s own, but because you’ve got a headache I want to do a chest x-ray to rule out walking pneumonia.”

“Great,” Evan said sarcastically. Figured. He’d probably given himself fucking lung cancer because he couldn’t stop smoking and now that he’d stopped dying he was probably going to start fucking dying.

“I know,” She said sympathetically. “But at least that’s bacterial?”

“Yay,” Evan said, almost smiling, and Mattie shook her head at him like he was being extremely silly.

“I’ll be right back,” She announced, heading out of the room, he assumed to order the x-ray. Evan unwrapped the tissue from around his bleeding finger and tossed it into the trash. He tried to suck in a deep breath but it hurt his chest and he shouldn’t have gotten out of bed today, he shouldn’t have gotten out of bed when he was seventeen, his head echoing with a voice that wasn’t his own, “ _Shit, Evan what did you do to yourself?”_

“X-ray’s gonna be a few minutes,” Mattie said when she reappeared. “I spotted Connor in the waiting room, do you want me to grab him?”

“Why?” Evan asked, bewildered. What would Connor want back here?

“Sometimes boyfriends want to come hold your hand I’ve heard.” Evan rolled his eyes, about to tell her he didn’t need anybody to hold his hand, but then he started coughing again so the overall effect was sort of ruined. “I’m fine,” He choked out.

“I know you are, but I’m getting Connor so he can wait with you until x-ray is available,” Mattie said. “Someone ought to fuss over you.”

“Sure,” Evan said, resigned. He hopped off of the exam table, wrapping his arms around himself, trying to push down the part of his brain that was recalling the last time he had to wait for an x-ray, the loneliness, the certainty that his mom didn’t care that nobody cared, nobody came to find him, his arm throbbing and head hurting and chest painful-

“Hey.” Evan looked up to see Connor standing in the doorway, his cheeks flushed from the cold. Fuck he was so beautiful. What was he doing here in this office? Connor smiled at Evan but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How come you didn’t tell me you were so sick?”

Evan shrugged, because there was no excuse for why, really. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell Connor, couldn’t let on that he was back on his bullshit again, that his anxiety, depression, trauma, whatever it was was taking itself for a joy ride because he had no energy to try to fight it or argue with it. Evan couldn’t explain that Connor was finally, properly doing better and so Evan’s mind kept telling him and telling him that it meant he would be done with Evan soon, that everyone eventually was done with Evan because any relief from his garbage was temporary.

Connor had a seat beside Evan, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to Evan’s temple. “You’re burning up,” Connor said, frowning.

“Mattie said it wasn’t that bad,” Evan muttered.

“She also said you’re getting an x-ray to check for pneumonia.”

“Walking pneumonia, it’s… it doesn’t matter, I’m fine. You didn’t have to come all the way here.”

Connor gripped his hand tighter, kissing his forehead again, muttering that Evan was a “stubborn idiot.”

“Evan?” Mattie said, reappearing in the doorway. “We’re ready for you.”

Evan slowly got to his feet, and Connor followed. In radiology, Evan was prompted to put on a hospital gown and it was freezing in the room and the temperature made him shiver, made his arms erupt in goosebumps, made him collapse his shoulders, made him wish Connor wasn’t around to see this. The x-ray itself didn’t take long, though they had to take it twice because Evan started coughing on the first attempt.

He was allowed to put his clothes back on, still shivering, and Mattie followed him back to the exam room with his x-ray pulled up on her tablet. She frowned at him. “Well… Alright, so looks like you’ve definitely got atypical or walking pneumonia.” She showed Evan and Connor the picture of Evan’s lungs. She pointed out something on the x-ray that apparently confirmed it but Evan didn’t really know what any of it meant.

“Shit,” Connor said, and Evan saw he was really pale, his face pinched and worried and Evan wished he wouldn’t bother. “That’s bad right? That’s really bad?”

Mattie smiled at him. “Not really. Evan, we’ll give you a course of antibiotics and you should start to feel better in a couple of days. Normally I wouldn’t even prescribe bed rest for walking pneumonia, but I know you too well to tell you to go about your life normally. Take tomorrow off, at least. And take it easy, use NSAIDs if the headache or sore throat bothers you, okay? And over the counter cough medicine if you need help sleeping. I’m sending your prescription to the pharmacy now, is that alright?”

Evan nodded. “Thanks,” He said, his voice raspy and unusual to his own ears.

“Go get some rest, dude,” Mattie said. “You should feel better after a couple of days.”

“Thanks for getting me in here,” Evan said softly.

“Well it was this or Alex trying to MacGyver an x-ray in the kitchen with the microwave.”

Evan tried to smile.

Connor looped his arm around Evan’s waist as they walked out of the clinic, calling a Lyft while he did. “Do you want to come back to my place?” He said it like it was an afterthought and Evan found himself feeling sort of annoyed about it. Like he just figured Evan was going to come over and didn’t think to ask him.

“I don’t… I’m sick, I’m not gonna be good company.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “You make great company, even if you’re just snoring on my pillow.”

Evan frowned.

“I just want to keep an eye on you,” Connor said. “Make sure you actually get some rest. It would make me feel better.”

“My meds and stuff are still at my place,” Evan pressed on. “Plus I’ve gotta go get the antibiotics and -”

“Evan, I’ll go get that stuff for you,” Connor said, like it was no big deal, like he was happy to do it and Evan wanted to protest, wanted to insist that he didn’t need Connor taking care of him but he was honestly too tired. Their Lyft pulled up out front, and Connor ushered Evan inside. He leaned his head against the window, the glass cold and soothing against his too hot forehead, and Connor kept rubbing Evan’s knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

The car dropped Evan at the bookstore, and he let himself inside with his key despite Connor saying he would walk Evan up. “I am not an elderly invalid, Connor, I can open a fucking door,” He snapped and Connor relented. Evan let himself inside, disabling and re-arming the alarm before climbing the steps up to Connor’s place, annoyed that the short climb up the stairs had left him a bit wheezy and winded. Edgar greeted him with a soft meow, rubbing his face against Evan’s ankles.

Evan normally would have reached down to scratch the cat behind his ears but he was too damn tired. Instead he stepped out of his shoes, left his jacket on the back of a chair, and headed to the bedroom where he pulled on some of his own sweats that had been left there in the last few months and stole one of Connor’s hoodies because Evan was freezing despite his fever. He climbed into bed and a moment later, Edgar leapt up as well, perching on the edge of Evan’s pillow, sniffing at his hair and purring contentedly. He didn’t really understand why this cat liked him… but it was nice to feel like something liked him without a weird sense of obligation and Evan fell asleep after petting Edgar’s little head a few times.

The wind felt cold against his face was wet his heart hammered too loud much too loud because this was it this was it this was it, he was done, he could stop now, he could stop, he’d shaken out the cramp in his hand from writing and writing and writing like he was running out of time because he was he was out of time it was never going to be enough, he was never going to be enough. Sabrina always said he never wanted to try and she was right, he didn’t want to try he wanted to fix things, he wanted to get it all right, exactly right and when they met at that bar and drank that whiskey she told him he was callous, heartless, didn’t he see how hard she had tried for him and he wouldn’t do it for her? “I can’t take care of you Evan, you have to help me, you have to at least _try_ -” And Evan was so tired tired tired tired of trying, of pushing, of asking kids who didn’t care to sign his cast and get rejected and blown off as a prom date and blown off as a child and no amount of success or money or fancy degrees on his wall could erase that he was nothing, worth nothing, that nobody would ever pick him and he was just done and a failure is a failure is a failure, the wind was freezing this high up, the wind was like a knife against his face and he was standing at the edge of the building, breathing breathing breathing and wanting so badly for it to just be over and he looked up at the sky, no stars, totally dark, light pollution ruining the night sky there were no stars the light had been blotted out of everything and he took a step forward, into the air, into nothingness and it happened fast, and familiar, but there were no pine needles or broken arms this time, this time he still didn’t get it right fuck fuck fuck fuck he never got _anything_ right -

“Hey.”

Evan’s eyes snapped open. “What?” he said stupidly, blinking and looking around, disoriented, his heart pounding so loud in his chest. And. Right.. He was at Connor’s, Connor had his hand on Evan’s shoulder, his face looked concerned and.

Right. He was sick. He was sick and at Connor’s because he had fucking pneumonia and… shit. He was here because Connor was looking after him because he was pathetic and couldn’t take care of himself.

“Edgar started, like, biting my pants and meowing until I came in here,” Connor said, frowning a little. He reached out and smoothed back Evan’s sweaty hair. “You alright? Bad dream?”

He nodded vaguely. “Yeah. I think. I dunno.”

“Fever dreams suck,” Connor said, nodding. He pressed a kiss to Evan’s cheek, despite his clammy skin and general illness. “I picked your antibiotics up, and I made some soup if you wanted to eat something?”

“Not hungry,” Evan mumbled.

“Just eat something so you’re not taking the meds on an empty stomach,” Connor said reasonably. “Then you can go right back to sleep.”

Evan frowned at him. He didn’t want to be babied. He told Connor as much. “I’m almost thirty, I don’t need you babying me.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “You’re not even twenty nine, Evan. And I’ll always be older, so you can’t try to pull one over on me about how you’re too grown up to be looked after.”

Evan glared at Connor.

“Just let me take care of you. You did it for me.”

“That was different,” Evan said indignantly. “You were-”

“Sick. Frankly, you had it worse because a course of antibiotics wouldn’t have done jack shit for me,” Connor said, frowning slightly. “Do you want me to bring the food in here, or can you come into the kitchen?”

“I can walk to the damn kitchen,” Evan said, shooting Connor a dark look.

Connor sighed from behind him as Evan made his way slowly out of Connor’s room to have a seat at the table. He regretted it, because it was a lot colder once out of the warmth of Connor’s bed, and he wished he’d thought to wrap a blanket around himself or something. Connor seemed to notice him shivering and pulled the throw off of the back of the sofa and wrapped it around Evan’s shoulders and that was so nice, so kind, and normally Evan loved that sort of thing but right now it just made him feel pathetic, useless, stupid.

Connor set a bottle of antibiotics in front of him. “You’re supposed to take these three times a day until you’ve taken the whole bottle. The pharmacist said they’re pretty strong so they can sometimes cause upset stomachs-”

“Got it,” Evan said, twisting open the bottle and shaking out one of the large pills. Connor had set a glass of water in front of him and it hurt to swallow but he managed to get the pill down.

“Thanks for. Picking these up.”

“Yeah, of course,” Connor said. “You should try to eat a little.”

Evan wanted to petulantly refuse. He wanted to be childish and frustrated about being sick, he wanted to roll his eyes and tell Connor to stop fucking babying him, but he knew his brain was just being an asshole so he did his best to eat something, smile big, be a good boy. He ate as much as his sore throat would allow, and Connor looked at Evan with big, sad, worried eyes and asked if Evan wanted to try to sleep some more.

“Okay.”

“Maybe you should take your other meds too,” Connor suggested softly. “Just so you can keep sleeping if you need.”

Evan fixed him with a withering look.

“I just want you to feel better,” Connor said, and he was frowning, and Evan had pissed him off and he’d done it on purpose and why couldn’t he just not be such a fucking asshole to this person who loved him?

Evan sighed.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well,” Connor said, and he looked sorry too which Evan hated. “Want to go back to sleep?”

He nodded and Connor ushered him back into the bedroom. Evan climbed into the right side of the bed, shivering, and then Connor climbed into the other side and pulled Evan to him, wrapping his arms around Evan and holding him close.

“You don’t have to do that, I’m sick,” Evan protested weakly.

“You’re shivering,” Connor said. “And I’m warm.”

Evan wanted to protest, but Connor was really warm, and he pressed a kiss to the back of Evan’s shoulder and pushed his fingers gently through Evan’s hair, even though it was sort of dirty and sweaty, and Evan was exhausted so he found himself drifting off.

Evan dreamt he was packing up his old apartment, the place he had lived with Sabrina when they decided to live together in New York. He didn’t have a lot to pack up. Mostly clothes and books; all of his dishes and towels and appliances had been tossed or sold immediately after undergrad and he’d split the cost of the new things with Sabrina and since he was leaving it wouldn’t be fair to take any of it with him. His new place was a few subway stops away and he needed to do this in as few trips as he could manage, so Evan was shoving as many clothes as he could into his backpack when she walked in, her eyes still red from crying, and softly asked if he needed help packing.

Evan knew he was dreaming because she hadn’t been home when it actually happened. She had been at school, and Evan had packed up between classes so he could be gone before she finished teaching for the day.

She wiped her eyes again and again, getting tears on the dress shirt she was folding for him and Evan wanted to rip it out of her hands, take it away, she was doing it wrong she was ruining it. “I can do this,” She said indignantly when he tried to help her. “Let me do it, I can do this, I’ve got this.”

“I just want to help.”

“I don’t need help,” She snapped, wiping her face. “I can do this on my own.”

“No you can’t,” Evan protested, “You’re fucking it up, let me do it-”

“No,” Sabrina said. “ _You_ are fucking it up.” She was really crying now, just sobbing, clutching the crumpled, tear stained shirt to her chest. “Why won’t you just get help? What’s so wrong with a little bit of help?”

“I don’t need it, I can do this,” And they’d had this fight, this exact fight, over and over and over. Sabrina pushing, insisting, Evan refusing to budge. “I can do it.”

“Bullshit,” Sabrina said, her eyes angrier now, her face strange. “How long until we find you up on a roof then? How long until you break down?”

Evan felt cold all over, so cold, cold like he was on a rooftop in February but not to smoke, not for any logical reason, Evan was cold like he was on a rooftop to die and he blinked, knowing this wasn’t real but then Sabrina wasn’t Sabrina she was Connor, she was Connor and Connor’s face was pale, his face was pale and his expression angry, pissed, clearly angry at Evan. “How much longer, huh? How much longer am I going to need to take care of you? When are you going to finally realize how much work it is just to get you out of bed each day?”

Those weren’t Connor’s words, those were Sabrina’s, said in anger, but hearing them from Connor cut through him, hurt. Hurt so much. He couldn’t breathe hearing those words in Connor’s voice.

“Throwing up every time you have to talk to someone new isn’t normal, Evan! Not calling your mom because she’s worried isn’t normal! Writing out a script to make a phone isn’t what normal people do! Why can’t you just admit that you could use some help?”

“I’m trying,” He said desperately, trying to explain. “I’m doing it now, I’m trying, I’m trying it’s just so hard sometimes…” Evan saw out of the corner of his eye that the full length mirror on the back of the door had disappeared the dresser was there one minute gone the next, things were disappearing. “I’m trying.”

“It’s not enough,” Connor said, shaking his head. His nose had begun to bleed, blood dripping over his lips, down his chin. “You’re not enough, you’ll _never_ be enough for me-”

“Connor,” Evan choked, sobbed, trying to reach him because even though Connor was hurting him Evan wanted to keep him safe, but he was frozen to the spot his arm was broken and he couldn’t move, and Connor spat a razor blade out of his mouth, his lips cherry red with blood and he took the blade to his wrist as the bed blinked out of existence, saying, “Look what you made me do” and Evan screamed as blood bloomed heavily from Connor’s skin, a long vertical cut up the arm and blood spilled down his arm, dripping wet, heavy drops onto the cream carpeting Sabrina picked out and Evan kept screaming, he was screaming so loud the walls started to shake, he was screaming so loud his throat was being ripped apart he was screaming, screaming, screaming-

“Evan, _Evan_!”

He opened his eyes but it was pitch black and he had known he was dreaming but it was so real, so vivid, he clutched his arm his broken arm to his chest and Connor switched on the bedside lamp, looking at Evan with big worried eyes. No blood from his nose, no blood soaking the sleeve of his shirt, Evan reassured himself, no blood.

“You’re okay,” Evan said, his voice barely there, this thin raspy thing, insubstantial. He pulled his knees to his chest, terrified his legs would fly off or something if he didn’t keep a firm hold on himself. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah, I just got scared, you started yelling in your sleep.” He rounded the bed, coming to sit beside Evan. “Shit, you’re shaking,” Connor said, his hands settling on Evan’s shoulders. He took one hand and pressed it gently against Evan’s forehead. “And you’re burning up, fuck.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for being sick, oh my god,” Connor said softly. “Maybe you should take something, just so you can sleep… Mattie said a cough suppressant could help, just let me -” He was standing up, probably to go to the kitchen and grab the pharmacy bag but Evan couldn't let him out of his sight.

“NO!” Evan yelped. “No, I’m fine, I don’t need anything please don’t go, please, _please_ stay-”

“Hey, hey,” Connor said, sitting beside him again. “It’s alright. I was just going to the kitchen.”

“No,” Evan repeated, taking Connor’s hand in a bruising grip. “No no please please just don’t go, okay? Please don’t, I swear, I swear I’m trying just please don’t leave-”

Connor took Evan’s face in his hands gently, saying, “Evan I am not going anywhere. I love you. What’s going on?”

Evan shrugged because he couldn’t say it, couldn’t explain, couldn’t tell Connor that if he left he might not love Evan anymore so he couldn’t go if he went he’d leave he’d leave forever.

Connor pulled him into a hug, arms firm and tight and real around him. When he pulled away, he brushed a hand through Evan’s slightly damp hair. “You’re not doing so great, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” Evan said softly. “I know I know I fucked up, I’m sorry, I really fucked up but I-I just-”

“Hey,” Connor said, his hand on the back of Evan’s neck. “Don’t apologize. It happens.”

“But I’m-”

“You’re sick,” Connor said softly. “And you’re having nightmares, which can fuck with you sleeping. It happens. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t fuck up. I understand and I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

* * *

 

It takes a while for Evan’s breathing to even out. A long while. Even when it’s calmed down, it’s still obviously labored and it breaks Connor’s heart to see him so obviously in pain.

 

Not just physical pain. He’s clearly not doing great in himself, either.

 

Connor leans in and kisses Evan’s forehead again. It’s way too warm.

 

“Okay,” Connor says, as gently as he can. “I’m going to go get you a cough suppressant, because Mattie said it should help you sleep. But I’ll leave the door open and I’ll talk to you the whole time, okay? I’ll be quick, and I’m not going anywhere. Just to the kitchen to get something that’s going to help. Okay?”

 

Evan is still clinging on to Connor’s arm, but he nods after a minute and lets go. Takes in a deep breath and nods again. Connor kisses his cheek, then stands up and heads out into the kitchen to get what he needs, talking the whole time.

 

“So I’m gonna get you some water as well, and you can take your regular meds, and I’ll get this cough suppressant as well. Actually I’ll just bring the whole damn pharmacy bag in here, because we’re probably going to need it.” He walks to the sink and gets a glass of water, continuing his narration. “Okay, now I’m getting you a glass of water.”

 

There’s a soft warm sensation at his ankle and an insistent meow. Connor looks down to see Edgar rubbing his nose on Connor’s leg, which is his usual sign for food. “And apparently Edgar has decided that now is the time to demand food, so I’m just going to give him some cat biscuits.” Connor heads toward the pantry and the meowing grows stronger.

 

Right, okay. Clearly Edgar is still in Protect Evan mode, which is super fucking cute. “No, hang on, he’s not after food, he seems to think I’m not paying you enough attention. Okay Edgar, let’s get this water and this pharmacy bag into the bedroom to Evan, what do you say?”

 

Edgar meows in what seems like approval, and Connor takes the glass of water and the bag of medication back into the bedroom. He turns on the main light for a moment to see that Evan is trembling, hugging himself tight like he’s afraid he’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on.

 

Fuck.

 

Connor puts the water and the medication bag on the bedside table on Evan’s side of the bed then pulls him into a hug and holds him for what feels like a long time, until he finally stops trembling. “It’s okay,” he says gently as Evan mutters apologies. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

 

When Evan pulls away he looks embarrassed and exhausted. Connor gets his regular meds out of his bag and Evan takes them dutifully, then takes the cough suppressant and lies down in bed again.

 

Connor goes to turn off the main light, then gets the lamp, and then crawls back into bed and holds Evan close to him. He hears a small thump, then a warmth in the small of his back, and deduces that Edgar has come to join them.

 

It doesn’t take long for Evan to fall back to sleep, and Connor’s relieved to hear him snoring. It’s a little louder than usual due to being sick but it’s still comforting as always. When he’s sure Evan’s sound asleep, he gently pulls himself away and climbs out of bed carefully, to Edgar’s obvious indignation if his sudden meow is anything to go by.

 

“Shhh,” Connor says to Edgar quietly. “Don’t wake him up.”

 

He grabs his phone, heads out into the kitchen and keeps the door open so he’s got a line of sight on Evan sleeping, then calls Leslie. She answers immediately.

 

“Hey Connor, what’s up?”

 

“Hey,” he says quietly. “I know this is last minute, but do you think you’d be okay to work tomorrow by yourself? Evan’s really sick and I want to keep an eye on him.”

 

“It should be fine,” Leslie says, and she sounds sympathetic. “I mean, it’s been a slow week. Lots of people are out with winter bugs. Tell Evan I hope he feels better soon.”

 

“I’ll cover you for a lunch break,” Connor assures her. “Hell, if you want to come up for a hot meal in your lunch break, I’ll make sure I have plenty.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Leslie replies, and Connor can hear the smile in her voice. “Oh, and good luck. I kind of get the vibe that your man isn’t the greatest patient in the world.”

 

“That would be accurate,” Connor agrees with a bit of a laugh. “He, uh… he doesn’t like being sick.”

 

“Does anyone?”

 

Connor makes sure to take his own medication before climbing back into bed. He also flicks Mariah a text explaining how sick Evan is and asks what he needs to do, as he’s not really sure of the whole ‘calling in sick’ policy and doesn’t want to wake Evan up. Mariah texts back immediately and says she’ll sort it out but that Evan should call when he wakes up tomorrow as well, and Connor figures that’s hopefully good enough.

 

Once he’s under the covers, he can feel Evan shivering again, so wraps his arms around him and tries to pass on some more warmth, which seems to do the trick after a few minutes as the shaking stops eventually.

 

It’s a long night. Evan manages to sleep through it but Connor finds himself waking up every couple of hours, heart pounding, worried that something’s wrong, that Evan is still having nightmares. Evan’s never been quiet in his sleep but hearing him yelling and screaming in his sleep had scared the shit out of Connor.

 

He remembers Evan screaming in his sleep almost a year and a half ago, plagued with nightmares when he gave himself fucking alcohol poisoning and his mental health wasn’t great and…

 

Connor should probably gently suggest that Evan make an appointment with Marcia when he’s feeling a little better physically. He knows that feeling shitty physically makes mental stuff even worse, and Evan’s been doing so well with this own mental health stuff but this shit is never linear. It’s never easy.

 

Connor just wishes he could make it easy for Evan. Make it all go away.

 

Obviously, he can’t. He can just… be there. Try to help the best he can.

 

He’s still hung up on Evan waking up and immediately checking if _Connor_ was okay, fuck. He thinks he knows what that means.

 

That Connor isn’t the only one who has those kind of nightmares. Fuck.

 

Evan mumbles something in his sleep and Connor brushes his hair off his face and notices he’s still too warm, but he’s shivering a little, and Connor hates it, completely hates it, so he kisses the top of Evan’s head and wraps himself around Evan a little tighter and whispers _I love you_ a couple of times until he feels himself drifting off to sleep a little longer.

 

Connor remembered to shut off Evan’s alarm, but he forgot to shut off his own. It goes off at around half past eight and Connor feels Evan tense in his arms, then wrench himself out of his embrace and start swearing loudly. Connor leans over to turn off his alarm as Evan grabs his own phone and swears even more.

 

“Fuck, I’m late, fucking hell.”

 

“Evan,” Connor says, sitting up. “You can’t go into work this sick.”

 

“I can’t just take the day off-,” Evan begins, but he tries to stand up as he does that and promptly collapses back onto the bed.

 

“I texted Mariah,” Connor says. “So she knows what’s going on. She said to call in sick once you woke up but that she’d given everyone a heads up already.”

 

“Fuck,” Evan mutters. “I should have called hours ago if I was going to call in sick, fuck.”

 

“You’re calling in sick,” Connor says firmly. “I’m not budging on this.”

 

If looks could kill, Connor would be falling down a flight of stairs to his death right now, but Evan does indeed pick up his phone and make a phone call where he apologizes at least a dozen times, shooting Connor a dirty look as the call continues. Connor takes the hint and leaves the room to give him some privacy, going to the bathroom first, then feeding Edgar, then turning the kettle on and starting to make some oatmeal.

 

Evan eventually makes his way out into the kitchen, wearing Connor’s hoodie with the throw from the sofa still wrapped around him.

 

“I was going to bring you food in bed,” Connor says, and Evan’s frown deepens.

 

“I don’t need you bringing me food.”

 

“You need to take another antibiotic,” Connor says, as evenly as he can. “And you can’t take it on an empty stomach. I’m making oatmeal.”

 

Evan screws up his nose. “Gross.”

 

“You can pretty much cover it in maple syrup,” Connor points out. “It’s soft, it shouldn’t hurt your throat too much.”

 

“Fine,” says Evan. He sits down at the kitchen table and Edgar jumps up onto his lap and he starts a little, then picks up the cat and puts him back down on the floor.

 

Connor is more than a little offended on Edgar’s behalf, but elects not to say anything. He leaves the oatmeal to do its thing and starts making Evan a hot toddy, based on what he remembers Andi making him. Evan’s watching him as he does it and his eyes widen as Connor pulls out a bottle of whisky.

 

“It’s like 9 in the morning,” Evan says. “Why is there whisky?”

 

“It’s a hot toddy,” Connor says, pouring in a generous shot of whisky and mixing it into the mug. He brings it over to Evan, who looks at it with suspicion. “Trust me on this. I got really, really sick the first winter I lived with Andi and she made this for me and it helped.”

 

“Andi listens to whale noises for fun and answers the door with her tits out,” Evan points out.

 

“Nothing to do with the hot toddy,” Connor replies. “Just drink it.”

 

Evan rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath, but does drink it. Soon Connor’s got a small bowl of oatmeal on the table in front of Evan, along with some sliced banana, almond milk and maple syrup. He serves himself up his own bowl of oatmeal, adds what he wants and then starts eating.

 

Evan, on the other hand, is still just kind of staring at the oatmeal.

 

Connor sighs.

 

“Can you at least eat a little?” he asks, trying not to sound too annoyed, because Evan being sick totally isn’t his fault, and Connor’s well aware he’s an asshole when he’s sick so he can’t really begrudge Evan acting similarly.

 

“Can you stop nagging me?” Evan shoots back.

 

“You’re going to feel like shit if you have your antibiotics on an empty stomach,” Connor says, trying to be reasonable.

 

“Fine,” Evan replies, and eats a grand total of two spoonfuls of oatmeal, then looks around for the bag from the pharmacy, which Connor remembers he put in his room. Connor stands up to go get the bag and when he comes back, Evan’s glaring at him. “I can get a bag by myself.”

 

“Sure,” Connor replies. “But you don’t have to.”

 

Evan takes the antibiotic, then has more of his hot toddy, which Connor notices he actually seems to be at the very least appreciating. He looks at Connor. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready to open the store?”

 

“I’ve taken the day off,” Connor replies.

 

Evan just stares at him for a moment. “Why?”

 

Connor tries not to roll his eyes. “You’re sick,” he says matter-of-factly. “And I don’t want you to be alone.”

 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Evan snaps. “I’m not a child.”

 

“It’s a good thing you’re not a child. I’d be in jail if you were, given how much sex we’ve had.” Evan doesn’t even smile, and Connor sighs. “Look, I just want to keep an eye on you. Make sure you’re okay.”

 

“You can’t just take a day off to look after me,” Evan says, clearly extremely irritated.

 

“I own my own business,” Connor points out. “I can do whatever I want.”

 

“Taking the day off because I’m sick is completely irresponsible,” Evan shoots back, giving Connor a withering look. “It’s not a good business decision at all.”

 

Connor feels his shoulders tense.

 

Remembers his father telling him he’s never taken responsibility for anything in his life.

 

Evan’s expression evens out into something a little less confrontational. He looks down at his oatmeal and takes a few more bites.

 

“I’ll be checking in with Leslie throughout the day,” Connor says, as evenly as he can. “It’s been slow, so everything should be alright.”

 

“Right,” says Evan, who finishes the rest of his hot toddy and doesn’t look at Connor. “I’m going back to bed.”

 

“Do you want to sleep or do you feel like watching something on Netflix?” Connor asks.

 

“I’ll sleep,” Evan replies, his voice curt, and Connor nods. Evan heads back into the bedroom and Connor takes a few moments to clean up everything from breakfast and put on the slow cooker using one of the meal prep bags he’s been keeping in the freezer since he first got really into the whole slow cooker thing.

 

When he comes back into the bedroom with his laptop, Evan’s sitting up in bed, and it looks like he’s answering emails on his phone. Connor sighs, and braces himself.

 

“I thought you said you were going to sleep.”

 

Evan shoots him a dirty look. “We don’t all run our own businesses,” he says. “Some of us have responsibilities to other people.”

 

Connor takes in another deep breath, then climbs into bed and puts the laptop on his lap. Then he turns to look at Evan. “I’m sorry you’re sick,” he says quietly. “And I love you so much. But you’re being an asshole right now.”

 

Evan tenses immediately. “I didn’t ask you to look after me, Connor. I didn’t even ask to _be_ here, I can just… I should just go home.” He starts moving the blankets but before he can go any further, Connor grabs his hand. Evan looks at Connor, clearly bewildered.

 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Connor replies firmly. “You’re being an asshole, but you are _my_ asshole, and I love you and I’m not letting you go through this alone.” He opens his laptop and navigates to Netflix. “We’re watching some motherfucking Bob Ross.”

 

Evan’s eyes are wide and he looks absolutely stunned and is blinking a lot and Connor doesn’t really know what’s going on his head, but he pulls the blankets back over himself, so Connor wraps his arm around Evan’s shoulder and puts on _The Joy of Painting_.

 

It takes barely half an episode for Evan to fall asleep against Connor’s chest.

* * *

The combination of a hot toddy and cold meds seemed to have knocked him out pretty efficiently, because when Evan opened his eyes again, the sun was brighter and his phone said it was nearly noon. He hadn’t dreamt at all, thankfully, and honestly Evan appreciated it because his dreams lately had been fucking horrible.

Connor wasn’t in the room anymore and Evan’s chest ached when he realized, thinking back to Connor calling him an asshole earlier in the day and how Connor had been totally right, Evan _was_ being an asshole…

He blinked a few times, swallowing painfully, and realizing after a moment that Edgar was perched on Evan’s shoulder, purring a little. “Hey,” Evan rasped, and his voice was basically gone. “I think your dad’s mad at me,” He told the cat. “He should be. I’m an asshole.”

Edgar rubbed his little mouth and nose against Evan’s chin and then hopped off of him, probably to go play now that he thought his sentry duties were finished. Evan knew he ought to get up, ought to go and apologize to Connor for being such a dick but he was so exhausted and he just didn’t want to have to explain just where his brain was at, why he was so averse to Connor trying to take care of him because if Connor tried to take care of him he’d realize Evan was a lost fucking cause and he’d _leave_ and…

Fuck.

His head was a damn mess.

Evan carefully rolled out of bed, pulling the covers back and shivering a little as he did. He didn’t see Connor in the kitchen or living room, so Evan headed into the bathroom. He stripped out of his sweaty clothes, shivering, and got into the shower. He could breathe a little bit easier under the spray, and getting the grimy layer of dried sweat off of his skin and hair did help him to feel less like he was being held prisoner in Connor’s apartment. He heard the door to the bathroom open and close, and when Evan stepped out to towel off, goosebumps rising already on his skin, he saw that Connor had put clean pajamas on the side of the sink. When Evan touched them, he noticed that they were warm, like Connor had thrown them into the dryer and his eyes filled embarrassingly with tears.

Fuck.

Evan took a couple of minutes to collect himself. He toweled off, changed into the clean, warm clothes, and then stepped out into the hall. He walked toward the kitchen where Connor was stirring something in the slow cooker and Evan walked directly to him, wrapped arms around Connor and rested his head against Connor’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I was such a prick this morning,” He murmured, his voice barely cooperating.

“Thank you for apologizing,” Connor said, and he turned around to properly hug Evan, holding him close and kissing his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” Evan said softly.

“Makes sense,” Connor said, “You have pneumonia.”

“It’s… walking pneumonia,” Evan protested weakly. “It’s not, like, _real_ pneumonia… Most people don’t even need to take time off.”

“Uh-huh, and we’re going to have a conversation about how you managed to catch that in the first place once you’re feeling better,” Connor said, but he was smiling. “Do you think you could eat something? I’ve got lentil soup in the slow cooker.”

“Maybe? My throat is still really sore.”

“Just eat a little so you can take your antibiotics, okay?”

“I’ll try.” Evan agreed, no fighting, no arguing, no griping about being babied. “Thank you. For cooking, I… thank you.” Connor smiled at him. Evan ate as much as he could manage with swallowing being so painful, maybe a third of the bowl Connor had put in front of him, then he took his antibiotic and some painkillers for his throat and drank a bit of water. “I’m really sorry about this morning,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have… I was an asshole. I said that thing about you running the store and that was horrible and I’m so sorry.”

Connor nodded. He reached across the table and took Evan’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “I don’t know what’s going on with you… I just wish you weren’t trying so hard to push me away.”

Evan nodded, his head bowing because he was ashamed of himself. “I don’t… I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to take care of me.”

“I don’t feel that way,” Connor said. “I just want to.”

“But-”

“No but. I don’t feel obligated, full stop. I just love you and want to make sure you’re okay.” Connor rubbed his thumb across Evan’s knuckles, taking his hand and looking at Evan’s chewed up nails and cuticles, and he pressed a kiss to Evan’s fingertips. “You’re not okay, are you?”

He shook his head, his eyes still downcast, because he couldn’t look at him, he couldn’t look at Connor because he wasn’t okay and maybe he wouldn’t ever be okay…

“It’s alright that you’re not okay right now,” Connor said softly. “You don’t have to be okay all of the time.”

“I’m supposed to be getting better.”

“Oh, fuck, _Evan_ ,” Connor said, and he wrapped his arms suddenly around Evan, squeezing him tightly. “Don’t you see how much better you already are?”

“You’ll get sick of me,” he said pathetically, his voice small.

“Hasn’t happened yet,” Connor said.

“I was such an asshole this morning.”

“And you apologized.”

“Also I hate oatmeal,” Evan said pathetically. “But I was a jerk about it and I’m so sorry.”

Connor kissed the top of his head. “It’s alright.”

“You’re acting like this isn’t a big deal but it is,” He went on. “I’m just like this. It always comes back to this and I hate it and you’ll hate me and-”

“And I don’t see that happening anytime soon,” Connor interrupted. “You’re amazing.”

“I’m a mess.”

“And so was I when we first got together,” Connor said, his voice annoyingly reasonable. “And you stuck by me, you took care of me. Do you really think I wouldn’t do the same thing?”

“It’s not the same thing, you shouldn’t have to, you’re _always_ taking care of me-”

“Evan. I love you. You’re just sick, and that can fuck with your head,” Connor said.

Evan nodded pathetically, unsure of what else to say.

“I think you should go back to bed,” Connor said after a while.

“Do you think… could you stay?” Evan asked, mumbled, his head down. “I’ve been having these horrible nightmares and…”

“Of course I’ll stay. I’ll be right there.” He stood up, clearing away the dishes before ushering Evan back into the bedroom. He got Evan a new, clean hoodie of his to wear and Evan felt himself starting to relax a bit once Connor climbed into bed beside him, pulling Evan close. “Do you want to tell me about the nightmares?” He asked, his fingers messing up Evan’s slightly damp hair.

“No. Not yet,” Evan said. “I just… it’s a lot.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll set up an appointment with Marcia soon,” Evan said, tiredly. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with me being all fucked up.”

“I think calling Marcia’s a good idea,” Connor said evenly. “But not because I’m trying to pawn you off on somebody else, okay? Because I love you and I know seeing her can help.” He pressed a soft kiss to Evan’s lips and Evan pulled away.

“You’ll get sick too,” He said quietly. “I’m probably contagious.”

“So I’ll get sick,” Connor said with a shrug. He kissed Evan again, soft and short. “I love you.”

“I love you too. So much.” Evan rested his head against Connor’s chest, listening to the reassuring sound of his heart beating, of his chest rising and falling with each breath. He kept talking softly to Evan, saying he loved him and he was going to be alright and Evan drifted off wondering if he would ever be fully able to believe him. He didn’t exactly stay asleep, instead floating in and out of consciousness, but Connor stayed put. He did some work on his laptop, typing quietly for a while. He was reading the next time Evan opened his eyes, and petting Edgar’s belly when he looked again.

It made something inside Evan unclench, that Connor stayed. That he seemed alright. He wasn’t running away or hurting himself, he didn’t seem miserable or angry with Evan. He just stayed, sometime gently resting his hand on Evan’s forehead or pushing his hair out of his face. If Connor could stay, then Connor was okay…

When they first started to spend time together, Evan went to Connor with basically every issue. He was scared he might die, therapy was hard, he felt like he wasn’t getting better, his ex was in town? Evan went to Connor and Connor made sure Evan wasn’t dealing with it alone. He took care of Evan when he gave himself alcohol poisoning and stayed the night when seeing Sabrina for the first time in a long time proved to be a little much. They spent the whole weekend of the anniversary of the time they died more than a dozen times making sure that they would be together if it all happened again. Connor was just… there for Evan.

Until he wasn’t. Until last summer. Until July and August when Connor avoided him and then told Evan he loved him and he was sorry and then when Evan finally found himself able to go talk to him Connor was not there for Evan, he was barely there at all. And Evan panicked and threw himself into helping as best as he could because this was the man he loved and he needed help so Evan gave it to him.

But he couldn’t ask Connor for help anymore because what if Connor wasn’t okay? What if what had made him vulnerable to the relapse last summer was caused by Evan always asking for Connor to be there? What if he asked Connor to help him and he agreed only it hurt Connor, it lead Connor to hurt himself? Evan couldn’t bear it he couldn’t bear losing him like that and if he asked Connor to look out for him he risked it all of it…

“Evan,” Connor said softly. “Are you awake?”

“Hmm,” He said sleepily. “Sorta.”

“You were breathing a little weird,” Connor said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, lied, whatever. “I love you.”

 

* * *

“I love you, too,” Connor replies immediately. He reaches over and brushes Evan’s hair off his face. “But you’re not okay. What’s going on?”

 

“I’m worried about you.”

 

Connor actually has to take a moment to process that. “Evan,” he says slowly. “You’re the one in bed with pneumonia. You don’t… you don’t need to be worried about me right now.”

 

Evan frowns. He moves closer to Connor and looks so horribly, down to his bones sad that Connor’s heart twists painfully. “I just… you’re doing so much better now, you’re doing so much better than you were when we first got together and that’s great, I’m so fucking relieved, but what if I make it all worse for you? What if me being sick and you having to look after me puts you right back there, or even worse than it was? And - and - and when we first became friends, I relied on you so much and you were always there, you were always there for whatever I needed, without question, every time, and what if… what if that’s why things got so bad for you last summer? What if… what if it’s my fault, what if all of it is my fault and I’m wearing you out, I’m wearing you down, what if you can’t… this is what I do, you don’t understand Connor, this is what I _do_ , I wear people down, I wear them out, I take and I take and I take, I… I take everything good and I twist it, I ruin it, I rot it from the inside out and I’m not - I’m not enough, I’ll never be enough and you’ll hate me, you’ll get sick of me, you’ll resent me because I’m never going to not be like this, I am _always_ going to be like this-”

 

“Evan. Evan, listen to me.” Evan is shaking now, almost violently, and Connor wraps his arms around him, trying to stop the tremors. “You’re sick, and it’s fucking with your head, and your brain is being an asshole right now. I _love_ you. I don’t hate you, I won’t get sick of you and I don’t resent you at all. And you’re not… it will not always be like this, Evan. It _hasn’t_ always been like this. You and I both know that sometimes… things are bad, that sometimes things are… exhaustingly hard, and it feels like they’ll never stop being that way, but we also know that there are good times. Times when it’s not so hard, times when we’re happy… times when we win.” He leans down and kisses the top of Evan’s head. “There have been so many more good times in my life since we found each other, Evan. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you,” Evan says immediately. He sounds exhausted, worn down to the bone, and he’s still shaking and he looks so fucking miserable that it breaks Connor’s heart. “But I can’t… I can’t be the reason things are hard for you, Connor, I just can’t.”

 

“You’re not,” Connor assures him instantly, but he takes a moment to think back to last year. To when things got bad. He thinks about the conversation with his dad, about Garrett quitting, about the store profits dipping slightly, about running himself ragged working for three weeks straight, about planning event after event to combat the summer lull and then the sudden realization of his real feelings for Evan and how sure he’d been that he wasn’t what Evan wanted, that he had to keep his feelings from him, that he had to avoid him so his feelings wouldn’t spill over.

 

And how being away from Evan had just made everything bad worse.

 

“Last year,” Connor begins slowly, “when things got… when things got bad for me, it wasn’t just… one thing, and it _definitely_ wasn’t you, or me helping you, or anything like that. Things got worse when I pulled _away_ from you, when I put distance between us. You’ve never… you’ve never been a reason things were hard, Evan. You’ve always been a good thing for me. The best thing. Even before I realized how stupidly in love with you I was, I always knew that you were so, so important to me, that you made things better, just by… being there. And I knew I wanted to make things better for you, any way I could.” Connor blinks, because he can feel himself getting emotional about this and it’s kind of fucking embarrassing. “I don’t feel obligated to look after you or help you. I never have. I just… want to.”

 

“But are you okay?” Evan asks, his voice small and trembling. “You… you were… it wasn’t that long ago that you really weren’t okay, that you were… it wasn’t that long ago.”

 

“It wasn’t,” Connor concedes, because Evan’s not wrong. “It wasn’t, but I’m okay now. And I… I know it was hard for you to see that, to see me struggling so much, and I’m sorry I put you through that, I really am.” He leans down and kisses Evan’s forehead again, trying to consider his next words. “I feel like… maybe it’s different for me than it is for you? I know you were really worried when I… when things were bad for me, and it took a toll on you, and I hate that I did that to you and I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry I let things get that bad. But when you’re not doing so well and you need my help, I… I mean, I don’t like it, I hate it, I wish I could take it away but it… it helps me to do what I can, it helps me to have you here so I can keep an eye on you and look after you. I’d rather you were _here_ so I can make sure you’re sleeping and eating and staying warm and resting when you’re like this, I’d rather that you _tell_ me. I _want_ to take care of you.” Connor laughs a little. “I think I’ve wanted to take care of you since… since you showed up at my old apartment when the furniture was disappearing.”

 

Evan tenses in Connor’s arms. “I dreamed about the furniture disappearing,” he says, his voice scratchy and thick with emotion. “And you… you were bleeding and everything disappeared and I couldn’t… I couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t stop it and I-”

 

Connor cuts him off with a kiss because he can’t bear hearing any more. “You saved me,” Connor says quietly. “We barely knew each other and you tried to help me. You stopped me from getting hit by a bus. You… we saved each other’s lives. There aren’t many people who can say that.”

 

“I’m so scared something will happen to you,” Evan says, and he’s closed his eyes and his eyelashes are wet and he’s picking at the skin on his nails and his fingers are bleeding and Connor has to do something, he has to help.

 

“I’m safe,” Connor says gently, taking Evan’s hands in his, trying to stop Evan from picking at them. “I’m safe, and I’m here, and I’m fine. I’m okay. And you’re going to be okay, too. Everything is going to be alright.”

 

He holds Evan for a long time as he shakes, holding onto his hands, running his thumb against his knuckles, saying the words _I love you_ over and over again until Evan seems to come back to himself, opens his eyes and looks at Connor, face burning with embarrassment.

 

“Fuck,” Evan says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have - fuck. Fuck, just ignore me, I’m being an idiot, I’m sorry, I-”

 

“It’s okay,” Connor says firmly. “It’s okay, you… it’s going to be okay.” He kisses Evan on the forehead, then reaches over to check his phone. “I need to give Leslie a break soon,” he says apologetically. “But I promised her soup, so I’m going to send her up here so you’re not alone, okay?” Evan shrugs, and nods a little, and sits up in bed. “Do you want another hot toddy? Some more cold medication?”

 

“Yeah,” Evan says, nodding a little. He looks at Connor, expression a little helpless. “I, uh…”

 

“Do you want to stay in bed?” Evan nods. Connor offers him a smile. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

 

Connor gets up and watches as Edgar trots across the bed to curl up on Evan’s lap protectively. He smiles to himself, then sets about making Evan another hot toddy in the kitchen and grabbing the pharmacy bag again. When he gets back to the bedroom, he changes out of his sweatpants and hoodie and into a pair of jeans and a nice sweater, then puts on some shoes. Evan watches as he does, smiling slightly.

 

“My laptop’s there if you want to watch something on Netflix,” Connor says, pointing it out. “And Leslie will be in the kitchen soon to have some lunch, and I’ll leave the bedroom door open so you can call out if you need anything. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” says Evan. He looks smaller, like all the fight has been drained out of him, and Connor hates it on one hand but also kind of appreciates not being argued with.

 

The time that Connor spends covering the store is long and uneventful and drags out uncomfortably. All Connor wants is to head upstairs and be with Evan, to curl up in bed with him and take care of him, but he’s got a business to run and employees to take care. He’s expecting Leslie to take her full hour lunch break but surprisingly, she ends up back in the store after only half an hour.

 

“I’ll pay you overtime for lunch,” Connor assures her as she does a little bit of tidying in the travel section. “But if you feel like the place is just dead at seven, feel free to close up early - just flick me a text to let me know.”

 

“Sounds good,” Leslie says easily, looking utterly unbothered by it all. “Evan’s asleep, by the way. Either that or there’s a freight train in your bedroom.”

 

“He hates that he snores,” Connor says fondly. “I think it’s cute.”

 

Leslie rolls her eyes. “You would. You two are disgusting.”

 

Connor gets back up to his apartment and heads straight for the bedroom, where Evan is fast asleep. He changes out of his jeans and sweater back into sweats and a hoodie, then climbs back into bed and curls himself around Evan. Evan sighs in his sleep, rolls over and buries his head in Connor’s neck.

 

There’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

* * *

Evan woke up to find his face buried in Connor’s neck. Connor was asleep, even though it was still daylight, and Evan felt panic climbing up his throat because if Connor was napping things might be getting bad again, if Connor was still, his eyes closed, silent, he could be dying or dead and what if something happened what if he was dead, what if…

Evan blinked a few times. He pulled away. He watched to see if Connor’s chest was moving, rising and falling, if he was breathing, and Evan’s hands shook as he rested them against Connor’s sternum. He was breathing, he was breathing, Evan tried to reassure himself. Connor was breathing he was fine he was fine he was fine…

Evan wasn’t fine. Evan’s anxiety was acting up and he was having a hard time breathing and then he began to cough because his lungs were angry at him and breathing was difficult and Evan knew, realistically, this was just an anxiety attack, he had those it happened but he couldn’t breathe and Connor wasn’t waking up and _Connor wasn’t waking up._

Evan scrambled off of the bed, diving for his bag and digging out his bottle of valium and his hands shook badly as he tried to get the cap off the damn bottle, rattling the pills like the bottle was a really fucking morbid maraca and Connor stayed sleeping he stayed asleep and Evan took one of the pills and swallowed it dry, and Evan curled into a ball on the side of the bed, head between his knees, arms around his legs desperately trying to keep quiet because he had to keep quiet he couldn’t let Connor see this, _stay asleep stay asleep stay asleep_.

Edgar Allan Paw meowed to announce his presence, rubbing his head against Evan’s ankle bone. “Mrow,” he said, rubbing his head against Evan’s hand aggressively, demanding attention. Evan reached out a shaky hand, petting the cat, trying to shush him.

“Shh, shhh pl-please don’t wake him up,” Evan said softly. “Come on, please,” he pleaded, petting the loud cat, trying to quiet him, trying to keep his own breathing under control, to wipe the tears away from his eyes, and he felt dizzy, but Edgar kept yowling, insistently pacing around Evan and then Evan jumped, because there were arms coming around him, tightly.

“Hey, hey,” Connor said softly, and he was hugging Evan. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Evan said, because it was true. “Just, I’m just…” He couldn't explain. His voice died, his eyes flooding again.

“Okay,” Connor said. “You’re gonna be okay. Do you need to take anything?”

“Already did,” Evan said. “I’m just… I’m _just…_ I can’t seem to get it together, I want to but I-I can’t, I got scared because you sleep like you’re fucking _dead_.”

“It’s okay,” Connor said softly, keeping his arms wrapped around Evan. “We’re just gonna stay here until your meds kick in, okay? You’re alright. I’m okay. We’re both fine.”

“I know,” Evan said, nodding, sagging against Connor’s arms, exhausted. “I know, you’re right, I’m being stupid -”

“Don’t do that,” Connor said, “It’s just your brain being an asshole, you know that, you’re fine.”

“I know, I just…” He took another shaky breath. “I know.”

“Does this happen a lot when you’re sick?” Connor asked Evan conversationally, like sitting on the floor and discussing what the fuck was the matter with Evan was totally normal.

“I don’t really know. I haven’t been sick in a long time.”

Connor gave him a strange look.

“Well, I mean, I’ve been sick but I’ve usually just… powered through it? Like, in law school I’d just... take a lot of Dayquil or whatever.”

“I wish I’d known you in law school,” Connor said, hugging Evan tighter. “Maybe you would have actually gotten some sleep.”

Evan almost smiled. “I’d have flunked out. You think I need twelve hours of sleep a night. Like I’m a toddler.”

“A sexy toddler,” Connor said, then flinched. “That came out weird.”

“Gross,” Evan said but he was smiling a little bit more. His meds were definitely kicking in, the feeling of tension, of dread, of choking starting to ease up. “Besides, you were too busy doing drugs to hang out with me when I was in law school. You’d have thought I was super boring.”

“Or I’d have convinced you to give me some of your Adderall for fun,” Connor said, kissing the side of Evan’s head. “What about when you were little? Did you ever, like, stay home from school?”

Evan nodded. “Yeah, I kinda remember like… throwing a tantrum and convincing my mom to stay home with me when I was really little? She built me a blanket fort and I thought it was so cool that I got to watch PBS all day.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But after my dad left it was hard to find a babysitter for a sick kid, so that normally meant I’d get stuck with my grandma. She’d watch a lot of soap operas and try to get me to like… drink the mixture of onion juice and honey? She swore by it but the one time I choked it down I threw up on her so after that I usually just went to school sick until I was old enough to stay home by myself.”

“Gross.” He smiled at Evan. “Do you want me to build you a blanket fort?”

Evan shook his head. “I’ll probably just fall asleep on you again. Waste of energy.”

“You can sleep where ever you want,” Connor said with a shrug.

Edgar, who had been standing guard nearby, seemed to have deemed the situation safe to approach again and he walked over to Evan and Connor, allowing them both to pet him and scratch his chin gently.

“I think Edgar likes you more than me,” Connor said, smiling a little. “He’s been so protective of you.”

“I don’t get it,” Evan said, scratching the cat behind his ears. “All I do is steal his pillow when I come over.”

“It was your pillow first,” Connor said.

“Well, technically, they’re both your pillows,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. “Edgar’s a good cat.”

“I knew you loved him.”

“Only because I got drunk and told you so,” Evan commented. Edgar rubbed his face against Evan’s elbow. “We have an understanding.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I pet him and give him treats, and he lets me stay over and cuddle with you.”

“Remember how you told me you didn’t like cuddling?”

“I didn’t!” Evan protested weakly. “Sabrina was always complaining because I was shit at cuddling. She said I was too… sharp? I honestly thought I didn’t like it!”

“So I’m special?”

“Absolutely,” Evan said, smiling.

But Connor wasn’t smiling. “Was she the one who said that… you wore her down?”

Evan looked away. “It wasn’t like that… We were in a fight, she was upset -”

Connor tensed beside him.

Evan sighed. He desperately didn’t need to give Connor more reasons to hate Sabrina. “It was during a fight. We’d both said some awful stuff -”

“Doesn’t matter,” Connor said. “She’s wrong, and that’s _horrible_ -”

 _“At least you got what you wanted though, right? You’re a part of something now,”_ Evan parroted and Connor flinched.

“I… shit.”

“It was a stupid fight. I just. People say stupid shit. Don’t hold it against her. I don’t hold it against you.”

“But it’s still bothering you,” Connor protested.

“Everything bothers me,” Evan said softly. “You can’t be angry at everyone who has ever hurt my feelings, Connor. I was a sensitive kid. You’d have to be angry all the time.”

“So? I’ll do it,” Connor said but he was smiling a little now. “I’ll fight anyone who has ever made my boyfriend feel bad.”

“What about movies that made me cry?” Evan asked.

“I will kick a movie’s ass.”

“I love you,” Evan said. “You are so weird I love you so much.”

“Do you think you can get back into bed now?” Connor asked after a few minutes, and Evan admitted he wasn’t sure, so Connor helped him to his feet and back into bed. It sucked because somehow he managed to feel worse after almost an entire day in bed. “Can I get you anything?”

Evan shook his head. Connor rounded the bed and climbed in on his side, pulling Evan to him immediately. “You do actually like cuddling right?” Connor asked suddenly.

“With you? Absolutely.” He wrapped his arms tighter around Connor’s middle. “Maybe it’s because you always smell good.”

“Can you even smell anything right now?” Connor asked him.

“Shut up and let me compliment you.”

* * *

 

“Can I make you another hot toddy?” Connor suggests. “They seem to help you actually sleep, and I hear that’s good for the whole healing process.”

 

“You’re just trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?” Evan jokes, and Connor smiles, because if Evan can joke then maybe he’s doing a little better.

 

“You’ve found me out. It’s all part of my evil plan to get you to rest.” Connor kisses Evan’s forehead, then his cheeks, then his lips briefly. “You don’t get nearly enough rest.”

 

“They do actually seem to help,” Evan says, though he sounds reluctant. “Okay. I’ll allow it.”

 

“Awesome,” Connor says, kissing him again, and reluctantly pulling away. He sits up, and Evan sits up for a bit. Connor looks at him. “While I make you a hot toddy, you should call your work and tell them you’ll be off tomorrow, too.”

 

“I’ll be fine-”

 

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Connor interrupts firmly. “Tomorrow’s Friday, anyway. If you let me look after you today and tomorrow and for the rest of the weekend, then you should be well enough to get back to work on Monday. Try to go back tomorrow and you risk just making this go on for longer.”

 

Evan glares at him for a moment, then lets out a sigh and reaches for his phone. Connor watches as he makes a call and once he’s satisfied Evan’s actually calling in sick for tomorrow, he heads to the kitchen to make another hot toddy, noticing that he’ll need to get some more lemons soon.

 

Once he’s got the hot toddy ready, he hands it to Evan who’s putting his phone on the bedside table, then grabs his laptop and climbs into bed next to him. “You called in sick for tomorrow?” Connor checks, and Evan nods wearily, then sips at his hot toddy.

 

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a handful,” Evan says, his voice soft and laced with guilt.

 

“It’s okay,” Connor assures him. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

 

Edgar curls up between the two of them as Evan finishes his drink, and Connor opens up the finance reports he’s been working on throughout the day on and off. The store is going really well, all things considered. They’d had a noticeable uptick in profits right after Connor took over officially, a frankly ridiculously lucrative December and even though January is slow, it’s up from last year. Even having an extra employee on and Connor working less hours hasn’t made too much of an impact in terms of overall profit.

 

He’s actually pretty fucking proud of himself and his team. They’ve done some good work.

 

Not long after Evan finishes his hot toddy, he curls up in bed next to Connor and is out like a light almost immediately. Connor guesses that the combination of Valium and a hot toddy is probably going to leave him out for the count for a while, which is honestly a good thing at this stage.

 

He reaches over and pushes Evan’s hair out of his face, then leans down to kiss him gently.

 

He’s just so fucking in love with him.

 

Connor spends another nearly three hours working on admin as Evan sleeps soundly next to him. It’s good to see he’s sleeping, and the hot toddies seem to be helping, but Connor just wishes he could do more, especially when Evan’s physical illness is taking such a toll on his mental illness as well.

 

At seven, Connor gets a text from Leslie saying that it’s been dead since five and she’s going to close up early. Connor figures he should organize something else to eat when Evan wakes up next. He’d only managed to eat a little bit of oatmeal (which he apparently hates, which is good to know) and a little bit of lentil soup, and Connor’s at a bit of a loss as to what to feed him next. He wants something Evan will actually eat and enjoy that won’t hurt his sore throat, something that might make him a little happier.

 

Connor closes his laptop, grabs his phone and gets out of bed, noticing the temperature rapidly dropping. He takes a moment to turn on the heater because the last thing he needs is for Evan to get cold, then heads out into the kitchen, leaving the bedroom door open just a crack so he can keep an ear out for Evan but closed enough that the heat will stay in.

 

Then he calls Heidi Hansen.

 

She answers on the third ring. “Connor, hi! Is everything okay?”

 

“Hi Heidi,” Connor says, still feeling a little awkward about just calling his boyfriend’s mom out of the blue, even though she’d told him at Thanksgiving that he could always call if they needed anything when they exchanged numbers. “We’re both okay, except that Evan’s got walking pneumonia. He’s staying with me and I’m taking care of him, I was just wondering if there was anything that made him feel a little better when he was a kid that you could suggest? He’s, uh, he’s pretty miserable.”

 

“Oh boy,” says Heidi, her voice laced with equal parts amusement and concern. “My advice? Leave the country. I hear Mexico is lovely this time of year. How’s your Spanish?”

 

“Honestly? No bueno,” Connor replies with a wry smile.

 

Heidi laughs. “Seriously, though, Evan’s always been a terrible patient. He hates having people look after him, he’s always just so insistent that he’s fine, that he doesn’t need anything. It’s enough to drive you crazy.”

 

“Yeah, it took a bit of convincing to get him to let me look after him,” Connor admits quietly. “He didn’t tell me he was sick until Mattie made him go to the doctor, and then it was a battle to get him to take time off work, but he’s got a course of antibiotics and I’m making sure he’s taking them. He’s been off work today, and he’s off tomorrow, and I’ve been with him pretty much the whole time. I took today off to make sure he wasn’t alone.”

 

“You took the day off?” Heidi says, and there’s something incredibly fond in her voice. “Connor, honey, that’s so kind of you.”

 

“Perks of owning my own business,” Connor replies, trying to sound casual, like it’s no big deal, because as far as he’s concerned, it isn’t. “And I’m not on the store floor on Fridays but I did all my admin while Evan was sleeping so tomorrow’s free to just kind of hang out with him. Any suggestions about something that might perk him up a little?”

 

“Chicken soup and Spider-Man movies,” Heidi says immediately, a definite smile in her voice.

 

“I can do that,” Connor says with a nod. Then he takes a moment. “Wait, which Spider-Man movies? There are, like, three different Spider-Men now, it’s super confusing. And that’s not even taking into consideration the Into the Spider-Verse thing.”

 

Heidi laughs again. “The 2002 Spider-Man movie, definitely,” she says fondly. “The one where you can see Kirsten Dunst’s nipples.”

 

Connor can feel his face breaking into a huge grin. “Oh my god.”

 

“I’m just calling it how I see it!” Heidi says, still laughing. “He had such a crush on MJ _and_ Peter, it was adorable.”

 

“That Spider-Man movie was his bisexual awakening, huh?”

 

“Pretty sure it definitely confirmed some things,” Heidi replies. There’s a pause for a moment. “Thank you for calling me, Connor. I didn’t know he was sick.”

 

Connor feels a bit bad. “He’s been pretty determined he wasn’t going to let it get to him,” Connor tries to explain. “But it’s knocked him down a bit. He’s, uh, he’s been pretty anxious. I know that when I’m not well, the, uh, the other stuff gets hard? So I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do that I hadn’t thought about.”

 

“He takes it hard when he gets sick,” Heidi says, sounding sad. “It makes him… he gets in his head, it stresses him out. He doesn’t like being alone when he’s sick, either. I’m sure he’s probably fought you on it because he hates feeling like he’s inconvenienced people, but… I’m sure he really, really appreciates that you took time off work to look after him. To be with him.” There’s a brief pause. “It means a lot to me. Knowing that there’s someone who’ll do that for Evan.”

 

“I love him,” Connor says simply. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

There’s a sniff on the other end of the line, then a brief laugh. “Is he awake?” she asks. “Can I talk to him for a bit?”

 

“He was sleeping last time I checked,” Connor confesses, “but I can check. Give me a minute.” He heads back into the bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed, putting down the phone for a moment. “Evan,” he says gently. “Are you awake?”

 

“Kinda,” Evan says, his voice thick with sleep.

 

“Your mom is on the phone.”

 

“My mom?” Evan replies, and Connor can see him sitting him through the dim light. He reaches over and turns on the bedside lamp, and Evan blinks a few times.

 

“Yeah,” says Connor quietly. “She wants to talk to you.” He’s starting to put together the beginnings of a plan. “If I pop out and get some groceries while you’re talking to your mom, will you be okay?”

 

Evan tenses up a little, but nods. “Okay.”

 

“Keep talking to her until I get back,” Connor instructs gently. “I won’t be long, though. I promise.”

 

“Take my phone,” Evan insists. “Just in case… just in case.”

 

Connor nods, then kisses Evan on the cheek and they swap phones. Then he sets about getting ready to go out into the cold with a hat and a scarf and a jumper and warm shoes, finds his wallet, grabs the canvas bags and his keys and heads down the stairs, through the store and out into the night.

 

He practically jogs to the grocery store. It’s snowing a little and it’s bitterly cold. When he gets to the grocery store, he picks up all the supplies he needs to make chicken soup tomorrow but also picks up some soup in a can he can just heat up for tonight, along with some soft bread, some more lemons for hot toddies, and ingredients to make smoothies, seeing as Evan’s not an oatmeal fan. After a moment’s consideration, he grabs a couple of KitKats, because he knows Evan likes them, and picks up what he needs to make hot chocolate later on, as well as some toilet paper, some orange juice and enough ingredients to make a couple more meals he knows well, because if it’s going to keep being this fucking cold he’d like to avoid having to go get groceries for the next three days or so.

 

It feels like it takes longer to get home and when Connor does, he’s chilled to the bone. He rubs his hands together as he climbs up the stairs with his grocery bag in the crook of his elbow, then puts his supplies on the kitchen table and heads into the bedroom to see that Evan is still on the phone with his mom.

 

“Connor just got back now,” Evan says, and his eyes light up at the sight of him and Connor feels something twist in his stomach and he can’t help but smile, because he just loves him so fucking much. “Enjoy your chinese food, Mom. I love you, too.” He ends the call and puts Connor’s phone on the bedside table and Connor goes over to sit next to him.

 

“Good talking to your mom?” Connor asks, wrapping his arm around Evan.

 

“Yeah,” Evan says distractedly. He frowns. “You’re freezing.”

 

“Sorry,” Connor says apologetically. “It’s cold out there. But! I have enough supplies to last us the next couple of days, so we should be all good.” He leans in and kisses Evan gently. “I’m going to put on some chicken soup for you, then we can watch Spider-Man.”

 

Evan looks at him and breaks into a smile. “Chicken soup and Spider-Man?”

 

“Your mom prescribed a healthy dose of Kirsten Dunst’s nipples to cure your walking pneumonia,” Connor replies with a wide grin. “And she was a CNA for ages, so she’d know.”

 

“Oh my godddddd.” Evan’s rolling his eyes and laughing and Connor can’t help it, he has to lean in and kiss Evan again.

 

“Hey,” he says gently. “Guess what?”

 

“What?” Evan asks.

 

“I love you.”

 

Evan’s face breaks into a wide grin. “You’re such a dork, I love you so much.”

* * *

Connor sat at the edge of the bed. He had been talking to someone, Evan wasn’t sure who the person was. “Evan,” Connor said, his voice soft. “Are you awake?”

“Kinda.”

“Your mom is on the phone.”

“My mom?” Evan sat up, blinking. His mom was on the phone? Was that who Connor was talking to? Did he call Evan’s mom? Did she call Connor? Evan blinked a few more times once the light was on, trying to shake the confusion and sleep from his head.

“Yeah. She wants to talk to you.” Connor looked thoughtful for a moment, then said. “If I pop out and get some groceries while you’re talking to your mom, will you be okay?”

Evan flinched, his breathing catching for a moment because truthfully, he didn’t want Connor going anywhere. But it wasn’t fair to trap him in the apartment all day, and Evan knew he was just being clingy, just being silly, so he reluctantly agreed. “Okay.”

“Keep talking to her until I get back,” Connor said, and Evan nodded. “I won’t be long, though. I promise.”

“Take my phone,” Evan said suddenly, because Connor couldn’t go out without a phone it was winter it was cold it could be dangerous, there could be buses or stairs or frayed electrical wires or axe murderers or rogue potted plants. He couldn’t let Connor leave without a phone. “Just in case… just in case.”

Connor smiled at him, leaning in to kiss Evan on the cheek and taking his phone from the bedside table. He handed Evan his phone, and Evan told him to be safe while he started to bundle up for the cold outside. After a moment, Evan gingerly picked Connor’s phone up, unfamiliar in his hand. “Mom?”

“Hi sweetheart,” His mom’s voice said, sounding relieved. “So… walking pneumonia, huh?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, and it hurt a bit to talk so he kept his voice down. “Sorry, I should have called or something. Sorry.”

“You’re okay,” She said, and her voice was so nice to hear and Evan thought maybe he would just never outgrow wanting his mommy when he got sick. “Connor’s looking after you, huh?”

“Yeah. He is.” Evan sighed. “He tried to make me eat oatmeal this morning.”

“Rookie mistake,” His mom said with a slight laugh. “I hope you’re being nice to him, even after he tried to feed you oatmeal. He loves you.”

“Yeah. He does. I… apologized for not being nice earlier,” Evan admitted.

“Well that’s something,” His mom said and Evan appreciated that she didn’t just outright laugh at him. “I’m glad you’re letting him take care of you, honey. I know you don’t really like it, but it makes me feel better.”

“I… yeah.” He felt his face get warm. “I’m sorry. I know I worry you a lot and that’s not fair you shouldn’t have to worry.”

“Evan. Sweetheart. That’s part of the deal when you become a parent. You could live in a protective bubble and I’d find something to worry about. Because I love you and I’ve known you since you were a squirmy, helpless tadpole version of a person. I’m your mom and I love you so I worry sometimes. I’m allowed.”

“Okay.” Evan swallowed. It hurt.

“Connor said you’ve been pretty anxious, huh?”

“Yeah. I guess.” He was picking at his nails again, noticed, and tried to stop. Instead he played with a loose string on the hoodie of Connor’s he was wearing. “I know it’s stupid -”

“Baby, don’t do that to yourself.”

“It’s stupid. I’m being really stupid.”

“You’re not, Evan. It’s not your fault you feel this way. You didn’t choose it or ask for it. It just happened to you, and it really sucks sometimes. But don’t beat yourself up.”

“I’m scared he’s not going to come back.” He sniffed, wiping awkwardly at his eyes. “I know, logically, he just went to the store and he will be back soon but I am terrified he’s not going to come back and I hate it so much.”

“I know. But he is coming back. If he doesn’t, I’ll fly out there and kick his ass. Just as soon as my Chinese food gets here. Need to fuel up first.”

Evan laughed a little. “Don’t kick his ass. I love him.”

“I’m glad you have him. He’s a good guy.”

“Which Chinese place did you order from?”

“Lucky’s.”

“Did you get egg rolls?”

“I did. And I’m going to get to eat all of them myself.”

“Jealous. They have good egg rolls,” He said. He picked at the loose thread a few more times, trying to think egg rolls and not worry about Connor slipping on ice or Connor meeting some nice new guy in the grocery store who liked oatmeal and wasn’t a huge pain in the ass.

“He’s going to be back any minute Evan. Don’t worry.”

He smiled slightly. “I know but… I know.”

“I know sweetheart.” Evan could hear his mom sighing. “Sometimes I think I fucked up raising you.”

Evan didn’t expect that. “What? Why? Don’t say that, you did a good job -” She’d done a good job. A great job, even. He was okay, he was alive, he had a good job and he’d gone to college and law school she had done her job just fine he didn’t want her thinking that.

“Maybe if I hadn’t been quite so honest about your dad leaving, you wouldn’t worry so much about people not coming back.”

“I feel like you’re ignoring the fact that dad literally left us when I was seven,” Evan said, frowning. “You don’t have to apologize for not lying to me about that. It just would have been worse when I finally realized he wasn’t coming back.”

“You’re probably right,” His mom said. “But sometimes I think I made it harder for you and I regret that a lot.”

“You did your best,” Evan said.

His mom sniffed. “Stop that right now, Evan. _You’re_ the sick one, I’m supposed to be making you feel better.”

Evan smiled a little. “Sorry.” He picked picked picked at the loose thread. His finger was bleeding a little bit. He’d gotten at his cuticle when his mom started apologizing. “I’m sorry -”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. How did you end up with walking pneumonia anyway?” His mom asked.

“Uh. It’s bacterial I think? I probably picked it up from someone at work or something,” Evan said. “Mattie gave me a whole long rundown but I really wasn’t listening. I was pretty tired. Something about… working a lot or something.”

“You should try to get more rest,” His mom said. “You work too hard.”

“You sound like Connor,” Evan said. “He’s threatened to tie me to the bed before and oh my god I just realized how bad that sounded I’m on a lot of cold meds shit.”

His mom was laughing. “Oh sweetheart, I really do like him. He loves you so much.”

“He does,” Evan said. He didn’t know why or how he had gotten so lucky. “I love him too.” Evan groaned. “Oh my god, mom, he took the whole day off just so I wouldn’t be alone. Just. What the hell? He took the entire day off and I just… slept basically.”

“Marry him,” His mom said, and Evan knew she was joking but his head nearly disintegrated at the words.

“I... uh. What?”

“Oh I’m teasing,” She returned, and she was laughing a little. “But that was very very sweet of him. And I know you love him, and he loves you. It’s not the craziest idea in the world.”

“But… I mean. I can’t get _married_.”

His mom laughed genuinely then. “Sweetheart I was married and divorced by the time I was your age.”

“Oh my god.”

“Plus, didn’t you say he had money?”

“Mom, stop it, stop it right now. Oh my god.”

“I’m just saying, a little money couldn’t hurt!”

“Stop it, oh my god, you are _so_ embarrassing.”

“I’m embarrassing, sure, but you know I’m right.”

Evan smiled. He could hear the door opening and a moment later, Connor reappeared in his bedroom with bright pink cheeks and windswept hair, and he smiled wider at the sight of Connor.

“Connor just got back now,” Evan told his mom, and Connor smiled back at him.

“See? I told you he was coming back.” Evan just barely avoided rolling his eyes at her. At least she couldn’t see him. “Get some more rest, sweetheart. And thank Connor for calling me. I’m gonna go feast on these egg rolls. I love you so much.”

“Enjoy your Chinese food, mom. I love you, too.” He ended the call and put Connor’s phone down. Connor came to sit beside Evan, and Evan could practically feel the cold radiating off of him.

“Good talking to your mom?” Connor asked, pulling Evan into a hug.

“Yeah,” Evan said, shivering a little. Connor was cold it had been so cold out what if he got sick, what if he caught what Evan had because he went out in the cold to help Evan, what if -. Evan shook himself internally, trying to stop the anxiety spiral. “You’re freezing.”

“Sorry. It’s cold out there,” Connor apologized and that wasn’t even why Evan said anything, he didn’t care if Connor was making him cold. “But! I have enough supplies to last us the next couple of days, so we should be all good.” Connor leaned in and kissed Evan, smiling a bit.  “I’m going to put on some chicken soup for you, then we can watch Spider-Man.”

Evan stared at him for a moment but then very slowly smiled, “Chicken soup and Spider-Man?”

“Your mom prescribed a healthy dose of Kirsten Dunst’s nipples to cure your walking pneumonia,” Connor returned, giving Evan a teasing grin. “And she was a CNA for ages, so she’d know.”

“Oh my godddddd,” Evan said, rolling his eyes because his fucking mom would say that fuck she was embarrassing and then Connor was grinning wider, leaning in and kissing Evan and it was nice, really nice.

“Hey. Guess what?”

“What?” Evan asked.

“I love you.”

Evan smiled without hesitation. He just loved Connor so much, even if he was the world’s biggest goober. Maybe because he was the world’s biggest goober. “You’re such a dork, I love you so much.”

“Why don’t you relax a bit while I make some soup?”

“Okay,” Evan agreed.

“Oh, and before I forget,” Connor said, and he pulled Evan’s phone out of his pocket and returned it. “I’ll keep the door open, but I’m just going to be right in the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” Evan said. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Connor kissed his cheek once more before heading into the kitchen. Evan relaxed because the whole time, Connor narrated what he was doing, from finding a saucepan to feeding Edgar Allan Paw, and Evan just didn’t know how to express how grateful he was to Connor for looking after him, for being understanding that Evan needed reassurance that he was still there right now and not judging him for it.

Connor said he was just going to go and use the bathroom, so Evan picked up his phone and checked it for the first time in a few hours. Asher had emailed him something about a brief that wasn’t emergent, so he marked it to reply later. Evan texted his mom to thank her for chatting with him earlier and to tell her he loved her. And to say he was jealous of her egg rolls, sore throat or not.

Evan saw a text from Mariah asking if he was dying without her, because she missed him “to death” at the office that day and that made Evan smile a little. He promised to be back in the office by Monday. There was another text from Sabrina, asking if he was interested in getting drinks over the weekend. “ _Three of my kids are out with pink eye because, I’m not kidding, there was a fart war. I need a billion drinks, wanna join me tomorrow?”_

 _“Can’t,_ ” Evan replied. _“I’m sick, actually. I have a bad chest cold and Connor has decided I am under house arrest until Monday.”_

_“Good boyfriend. Let’s rain check getting trashed. Need anything?”_

_“Obviously I need to hear the details of the fart war.”_

_“Long story short: children are disgusting. But I meant because you’re sick, genius. Can I drop off food or something? Buy Connor a stiff drink because you are the worst sick person in the whole universe?”_

Evan smiled, and Connor appeared with a bowl of soup. Evan smiled harder. Connor was so great. “Thank you,” He said softly, putting his phone away. “I really really appreciate you doing this. Taking care of me. I know I’ve been… the worst.”

“I love you,” Connor said, like it was that easy.

“Sabrina has offered to buy you a drink for putting up with me sick,” Evan volunteered after a moment.

“Ah,” Connor said blandly. He didn’t ask for more details or comment further, and Evan sort of wished he hadn’t brought up Sabrina because it had garnered such a lukewarm response. “Well I think I’ve got that area covered so.”

“Right.”

“So these nipples,” Connor said, changing out of his street clothes and back into pajamas. “Are their curative powers well documented?”

Evan shrugged. “I dunno, I think when I was a kid, seeing any sort of nipple made me feel better.”

“That’s adorable,” Connor said, settling beside Evan and kissing his cheek. He reached for his laptop to pull up the movie and Evan ate almost the whole bowl of soup, which seemed to make Connor very happy. He pulled Evan to him somewhere around the time Peter got bit by the spider, and Evan rested his head on Connor’s chest. Connor kissed the top of his head, his fingers gently combing through Evan’s hair. Evan was pretty tired, and Connor was warm and comforting, and he kept his eyes open until seconds after the infamous upside down kiss (featuring Kirsten Dunst’s nipples) scene, but then Evan drifted off.

 

 

* * *

Connor’s relieved when Evan falls asleep and even more relieved when Connor gets out of bed and Evan stays asleep. Edgar climbs onto the bed and curls up next to Evan protectively as Connor heads to the kitchen to do the dishes, making sure to leave the door open enough that he can hear Evan if he needs anything but closed enough that not too much of the heat will get out.

 

Connor has to admit, he’s glad he got everything he needed for the store done during the day and he’ll be able to just relax and look after Evan for the next few days. Honestly, he could probably do with the rest himself as well - the last thing he needs is to get overtired and overworked and end up with whatever Evan’s got, but he figures if he keeps warm and fed and rested, he should be alright.

 

He sets about doing the dishes, then starts prepping ingredients to put in a freezer bag so he can just put on some chicken soup in the morning. He’s still not sure he’s completely nailing this chicken soup business but Heidi said Evan likes chicken soup, so Connor’s going to learn how to make a homemade version, because somehow in the last few months he’s decided that homemade food is just… better.

 

Obviously, having a mental health crisis last summer wasn’t exactly great, but at least he got some cooking skills out of it.

 

Connor looks in on Evan quickly, then sets about prepping more meals for his freezer while he’s got the time. He wants to spend as much of tomorrow physically in the same room as Evan, because it’s clear that his anxiety is pretty bad, and the more meals Connor can prepare in advance, the less time he has to spend away from Evan. Connor just… wants to be there with him. Curled up in bed watching movies, feeling Evan’s heartbeat, making sure Evan is warm and comfortable and has everything he needs.

 

He’s just finished stacking a pile of freezer bags in the freezer when his phone rings. Connor stares at it for a moment, seeing that it’s an unknown number, and debates just letting it go to voicemail, but at the last minute decides to answer.

 

“Connor Murphy.”

 

“Connor, hi,” comes a voice it takes Connor a moment to place. “It’s Sabrina. Sabrina Patel?”

 

Connor finds himself frowning, almost despite himself. “Hi,” he answers, trying to keep his voice even.

 

He manages to refrain from just bluntly asking her why she’s calling, which he thinks he deserves some credit for.

 

It’s not that Connor thinks Sabrina is a bad person or anything. He barely knew her in high school, and never really thought about her enough to form a real opinion. She was friendly with Zoe, that much he was vaguely aware of, but they weren’t in the same year so it wasn’t like they were best friends or anything.

 

It’s just…

 

Well, she’s Evan’s ex-girlfriend, and not just someone Evan dated for a while casually - someone Evan had an honest-to-fuck serious relationship with.

 

“I just wanted to check in,” says Sabrina, her voice as irritatingly cheerful as always. “I know Evan’s sick and I remember how much of a nightmare he is when he’s sick. Is there anything you need?”

 

Connor manages to stop himself from just barking out ‘no’. “I’ve got it covered, thanks.”

 

“Honestly, I’m surprised he even admitted he was sick,” Sabrina says with a laugh. “He’s the worst patient ever, oh my god.”

 

She’s not wrong, but Connor doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of admitting it. He doesn’t say anything.

 

Eventually, she continues.

 

“I’m pretty free this weekend,” she says, “so I could drop over some food or something? I’m guessing he’s staying with you while he’s sick… did you need to run any errands or anything? I could pop over, stay with him while you go and do whatever you need to? Evan said you’ve got him under house arrest until Monday, so…”

 

She trails off, and Connor resists the urge to tell her to fuck off.

 

He just… doesn’t like the implication that he can’t handle this. That he can’t handle Evan. That Sabrina knows Evan better than he does, that she’s offering to bail him out because she thinks Connor will fuck it up, that Sabrina has this magical insight on Evan just because they dated for years when it’s Connor who picked up the pieces when Sabrina got engaged, it’s Connor who was there after that disastrous drinks outing a year ago, and why the fuck does Evan want to be friends with his ex-girlfriend anyway? It makes zero fucking sense, especially when she got engaged and he…

 

“I’ve got it covered,” Connor says again, trying not to sound openly hostile but also trying to get Sabrina to stop offering help that he doesn’t fucking need.

 

It’s quiet on the end of the line for a moment. “I just want to help,” Sabrina says, sounding a little lost.

 

Connor feels a pang of guilt, so tries to soften it a little. “We don’t need it,” he says as kindly as he can manage. “But thanks anyway.”

 

“Right,” says Sabrina.

 

“How did you get my number?” Connor blurts out before he can stop himself.

 

“I asked your sister,” Sabrina says, sounding genuinely embarrassed now. “Sorry. I should have asked her to check with you if it was okay for me to have your number, you might not have wanted to-”

 

“It’s fine,” Connor interrupts. “Thanks for the offer. I need to get back to Evan, have a good night.”

 

Connor waits for her to say goodbye before hanging up which he thinks is pretty fucking decent of him, given the circumstances.

 

He does the last of the dishes once the call is over, trying to get his breathing nice and calm to counter the annoyance that’s sitting in his chest. He just… doesn’t like her. Doesn’t like the implication he can’t handle this, doesn’t like her acting like she needs to swoop in and come to the rescue.

 

This isn’t last September when Connor could barely help himself. At least then when Sabrina made muffins they were good muffins and it made sense because Connor was a mess. This isn’t last September, and Connor is honest-to-fuck okay - worried about Evan and sad that he’s so sick and so anxious, but okay. His mental health is holding up, his physical health is fine, and he’s more than capable of looking after his boyfriend.

 

Evan isn’t Sabrina’s to worry about anymore. Evan hasn’t been Sabrina’s to worry about for a long time now. And Connor’s not going to let Evan down, not going to let Evan go, not going to just give up and walk away.

 

Once he’s done with the dishes, Connor takes his medication, brushes his teeth and heads back into the bedroom. He cranks up the heater a little and climbs into bed with Evan and Edgar, then turns out the light. He reaches for Evan in the dark and wraps his arms around him, pulling him close and curling himself around him protectively, as though somehow he could keep Evan safe this way. Safe from a bacterial infection, safe from nightmares, safe from his own brain turning on him.

 

Connor just wants Evan safe.

 

Always.

* * *

 

Evan recovered, slowly, from walking pneumonia. Connor took care of him all weekend, and it eased a lot of Evan’s worries to have him there all of the time. Someone solid and real and present, someone to anchor him.

But as the cough subsided and the fever broke, Evan’s anxiety stayed firmly put. He was a wreck the first day he was back at work, checking his phone obsessively, texting Connor all of the time because he had to make sure Connor was okay, he had to make sure they were okay, and he knew he was being crazy, he knew he was being obsessive and obnoxious and naturally this was the week when Marcia was out of town and unavailable and he knew, he knew he could call the other therapist at her practice if it was an emergency…

But this wasn’t an emergency. Just massively inconvenient.

He refused to let this become an emergency.

On Tuesday, Evan insisted on returning to his place because he wasn’t so sick he needed watching anymore and, also, Connor had to be sick of him by now. He _had_ to be. Evan would be sick of himself. He _was_ sick of himself. His pathetic neediness, his desperation, the fact that unless he was physically looking at Connor a voice in the back of his mind would tell him, oh so kindly, that Connor hated him. Or worse, that Connor was hiding that he wasn’t well. That Connor was struggling and he was hiding it from Evan because Evan was so pathetic, that Connor was back where he was in September because Evan needed him too much and he knew he couldn’t just suddenly stop needing Connor but he could… try to sleep at his own fucking place so that’s what he did.

Because it was the only thing he could think of that wouldn’t scare the shit out of Connor. It was the only thing that wasn’t the fucking nuclear option…

He kept thinking about breaking up with Sabrina. Another thing he couldn’t say to Connor because... well. He desperately didn’t want him to blame Sabrina more than he already did and he also really didn’t want Connor knowing things were at That Level, like the fact that he had stressed over an email for forty seven minutes on Monday because every way he phrased it he was certain it might offend Asher was information he couldn’t share. But everything reminded him of how he felt right before he just couldn’t fucking do it with her anymore and Evan hated it because Connor. Wasn’t Sabrina. Wasn’t annoyed that he needed help, wasn’t demanding he handle things differently. He was more patient, more understanding, which made it all the worse that Evan’s brain kept telling him to get out before he ruined Connor’s life totally, before he wrecked everything beyond repair, before Connor hated him.

So he said nothing. Because if he said that, if he told Connor his fucking brain was scaring him into thinking Connor hated him so he should get out now, Connor might think Evan wanted to break up with him and he didn’t he really didn’t want that at all. He never wanted to break up with Connor. Connor… Connor was it for him.

And Connor had taken care of him so much and had been so unflinchingly patient and calm and good and Evan owed him someone who could handle this. At least until Marcia got back in town. He could handle it.

Evan pled playing catch up and stayed a little late at work every night, texting Connor obsessively and then going home and not getting out of bed between seven o’clock at night and seven o’clock the next morning. Because he just had no energy for anything else. Because he had to hide it, had to hide this… He could handle it and Connor didn’t need to know he didn’t need to worry about it it was fine.

It was. Fine. It would be fine.

It wasn’t fine. He _wasn’t_ fine.

So he called his mother.

She picked up immediately. “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hi mom.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m... “ His voice died. “Mom, I’m not okay.”

“Baby, what’s going on?”

“I… You’re not tired of me right? You don’t… you’re not upset that I’m not okay all the time?”

“Of course not sweetheart. I love you. I love you more than anything.”

“I just… I’m…” He couldn’t go on, he had started to cry and his voice died.

“Honey.”

“I know. I know I’m not supposed to be like this anymore, I’m supposed to be better but my therapist is out of town and I....”

“Can you call Connor?”

He didn’t want to. “He’s done so much and I don’t want him to-to see this.”

“Baby. You took such good care of him this fall. I don’t think he would be upset to know you’re not alright right now.”

“But what if he gets sick of me, like Sabrina and-and Jared and -”

“Evan. Sweetheart. You know that’s not going to happen. Connor loves you. He loves you so much.”

Evan took a deep breath.

“You’re not alright.”

“I’m not.”

“Well then you shouldn’t be alone. Call Connor. Call him right now. We’ll hang up and you’ll call him and text me, okay?”

Evan nodded to himself. “Okay. Okay, you’re right.”

“I love you so much sweetheart. You’re going to be alright.”

He wasn’t alright. He was not fine. But.

He called Connor.

“Hey! How are you feeling?”

“I’m… Do you think you could come over?” Evan asked Connor, his voice coming out raspy and thin and small.

“I… Of course,” Connor said, softly. “I’ve got to finish closing up but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” Evan said and to his horror his eyes flooded with tears and he hung up, curling back into a ball. He pulled the covers over his head and tried not to be the person who was breaking down, again, because he was so fucking tired of breaking down. He texted his mother to let her know Connor was on his way.

He must have fallen asleep, because his body was too tired, because his mind was exhausted, and all Evan could do was sleep, all he could do was stay here, in this bed, and wait it out.

When he woke up, Connor was pulling back the covers on Evan’s bed, sliding into bed beside him. He must have let himself inside.“Hey.” Connor pressed a kiss to the back of Evan’s neck, pulling him in close. “What’s going on?”

Evan couldn’t explain. He just started crying. And Connor stayed right there, running his fingers through Evan’s hair, pressing kiss after kiss to Evan’s shoulder, his arm tight around Evan. “I love you so much,” Connor said softly. “It’s gonna be okay, I love you, it’s alright.”

Eventually Evan stopped crying. Maybe he ran out of tears, maybe he was just cried out. He turned over, looking at Connor through wet eyes and Connor touched his face, gently, and said, “What can I do?”

“Can you… do you think you could stay?”

“Of course.” Connor kissed Evan softly and Evan pulled himself closer, unthinkingly, kissing Connor harder because even though he said he would stay, Evan needed to make sure of it. He had to be sure he stayed, so he kissed Connor like his life depended on it, he kissed Connor’s jawline, his neck, his hands reaching, grasping, desperate. He could make Connor stay, he’d do anything to make Connor stay, he’d let him do anything…

“Evan?” Connor said, pulling away ever so slightly, taking Evan’s wrist and gently pulling it out of Connor’s clothes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, everything is fine,” Evan said, mumbled, trying to kiss Connor again. “I just… love you and don’t want you to leave.” He kissed Connor again, trying to be convincing, trying to keep him here right here.

“Evan, love, you’re crying,” Connor said, and his voice was so gentle and kind and Evan was mortified. “What is going on?”

“I… Can I ask something?” His voice shook a little.

“You can ask me anything.”

“You’re not… Are you… Are you over me?”

“What?” Connor’s face fell.

“I understand if you are,” Evan pressed on. “And I… If that’s what this is, I. You shouldn’t feel like you have to just…” He pressed his eyes closed for a second. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do, so if this isn’t working for you we can just… I’ll do whatever you want, okay? So just. Whatever you want from me, I can...”

“Why would you think that?” Connor asked softly.

“I just. I… I can’t get it together. I’m fucking it up, I’m fucking everything up.”

“You’re not,” Connor said. “You’re not. And oh my god Evan, I’m not over you. I love you. I love you more than anything.”

“Okay.”

“Have you called Marcia?”

“She’s… she’s out of town for the week.”

Connor nodded. “Okay. Okay.” He kissed Evan on the cheek. “We’ll get through this, alright? Sit up with me?”

“I don’t… I don’t know if I can…”

“You can. Come on.”

Evan struggled to sit up. He didn’t want to. He was scared to do it. But Connor asked, so Evan listened. “Have you eaten?”

Evan shook his head. “Okay. We’re going to order some food, okay?”

Evan nodded.

“And I think you should get out of bed.”

Evan’s face flamed. “I don’t think I can. I’m… exhausted.”

“I know. But I think you can get up.” He kissed Evan on the cheek. “You will. Come on. I’ll be there the whole time.” Connor took Evan’s hand. “Come on.”

Evan got to his feet very slowly. He was horribly embarrassed to be in his week old pajamas, eyes red from crying and unsteady on his feet. But he let Connor lead him into the living room, didn’t protest when Connor ordered them food.

“Okay,” Connor said, hanging up the phone. He took Evan’s hand again. “Let’s talk about what we can do until Marcia comes back.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Evan muttered, turning away.

“I know,” Connor said. “But I’m going to, okay?”

So Connor agreed to stay the night. And Evan agreed he would stay with Connor until the weekend was over, to make sure he wasn’t alone.

“It’s too much, this is too much,” Evan said a few times over the next few days.

“No. It’s not,” Connor said softly. “I would tell you if it was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note to our dear readers... Rose and I love you so much! Which is why our update schedule for the next two chapters will be different than our usual Monday/Wednesday/Friday. We want to give you a good ending to this story, so we're going to take a little extra time with the last two chapters. Thanks for your patience.


	26. February, Part I (Two Years After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’m gonna go… buy some books. And feed him. He’s gonna eat and take my money and be my fucking friend, damn it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on the home stretch, folks! Here's part 1 of 3 chapters for February, we hope you enjoy!
> 
> ALSO READ THE TAGS.

Connor isn’t expecting it.

 

And as a result, he’s blindsided. Completely.

 

It’s a Thursday afternoon, somewhere around four, and he’s trying to figure out how to best to display some very cool children’s picture books in Spanish while Maureen talks to a customer when the bell over the door rings and he looks up and feels something cold go through him.

 

Larry Murphy is standing there, in a way too fancy suit, taking in the store with a dispassionate expression.

 

Connor feels his entire body tense, like he’s trying to prepare himself for a fight.

 

“Connor,” says his father, expression smooth and polite. “You look well.”

 

His dad walks over and extends a hand for him to shake, which Connor does without thinking. He can’t remember when handshakes replaced hugs when it came to his dad, but that’s hardly important right now.

 

“Didn’t realize you were in town,” Connor says, and he’s relieved to hear his voice is steady and smooth. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

 

“One of my colleagues mentioned an author whose work I might enjoy,” says Larry matter-of-factly. “Since court adjourned early, I thought I’d stop by and see what I could find.”

 

“Right,” says Connor. “Who’s the author?”

 

“Lou Berney,” says Larry, still in that maddeningly level tone, like he hadn’t verbally ripped Connor to shreds the last time they’d seen each other. “They said his most recent is good.”

 

“November Road,” Connor says, letting himself slip into dealing with customers mode. “I read it when it came out and enjoyed it.” He leads his father to the section of the store he knows he’ll find it in. “It’s set in the 60s, around the JFK assassination.” It takes barely seconds to locate the book and he hands it to his father, noticing his hands are shaking a little.

 

Larry takes the book, then looks around. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but eventually, he looks back at Connor. “Did you get the gift from your grandmother for Christmas? Your sister should have passed it on.”

 

“Yes,” Connor says immediately. “I called her to say thank you last month.”

 

Larry nods. “Right.”

 

They stand there awkwardly for a few moments. “I can ring that up for you,” Connor offers. Larry nods, then they go to the counter and Connor rings up his father’s purchase. Larry picks up some things on the counter and puts them in front of Connor without really looking at them.

 

They’re weird things. A key ring. An address book. A tiny novelty alarm clock. A book of calming sayings.

 

Larry then gestures to the tote bags hanging on the wall behind Connor. “A bag as well, please.”

 

Connor dutifully grabs the tote bag and rings it up along with the collection of miscellaneous items and the book, Larry adding to the pile as he goes and grabbing two more books off a nearby display. By the time he’s finished, the total is over $100.

 

Larry hands over his credit card and Connor processes the transaction.

 

“Would you like your receipt?” Connor asks politely.

 

“No thank you,” Larry replies. He nods at Connor. “Good to see you.”

 

With that, he leaves the store with his bag of purchases.

 

Maureen comes over to him, her expression concerned. “Are you okay?” she asks. “You’ve gone really pale. Well, paler than usual.”

 

“I just need a moment,” says Connor, and excuses himself to make a cup of coffee, except he can’t do it because his hands are shaking badly.

 

His dad just showed up.

 

Bought books and weird shit and spent over $100 like he didn’t make a big deal about thinking Connor would fail last May.

 

Like he didn’t…

 

Like he didn’t taunt Connor about his mental illness, like he didn’t imply that Connor might attempt suicide again, like he didn’t call Connor a waste to his face…

 

Fuck.

 

Connor runs and throws up in the staff bathroom a few times, feeling shaky all the way through him.

 

He hasn’t…

 

He’s talked to Praveed a little about what his dad said, about some of the barbs he threw at him, but there are things he’s glossed over. Things that are clearly still affecting him.

 

Before he can talk himself out of it, he calls and makes an appointment to see Praveed. Fortunately, he’s able to get an appointment first thing tomorrow, which is a bit of a relief. When the call is over, he sees that there’s a message from Evan.

 

**Heard through the lawyer grapevine that your dad is in town this week, just a heads up**

**I love you**

 

Connor doesn’t know how to reply, whether he should tell Evan what happened now or wait until he sees him in person. Part of him thinks he’s overreacting, but the other part is noticing that his hands are shaking too much to type, and that he still feels sick to his stomach.

 

He has some water and heads back out into the now empty store, Maureen looking at him with concern. “You sure you’re okay?” she asks.

 

“I don’t know,” Connor admits, and he can feel something soft against his ankle, and he reaches down and picks up Edgar who snuggles up against him. “I, uh… sorry, I’m kind of feeling sick all of a sudden?”

 

“I can close up,” Maureen says immediately. “If you wanted to just finish early and go to bed.”

 

Connor wants to argue and tries, but he’s kind of a mess, and Maureen locks the front door and puts up the ‘back in five minutes’ sign and pretty much escorts him upstairs to his apartment. Once she’s got him up the stairs, she heads back down and assures him she’s got everything under control. Connor brushes his teeth to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth, then changes into sweatpants and gets into bed, Edgar curling up next to him.

 

He drifts in and out of sleep for the next few hours and only wakes up when he feels the bed move. There’s a hand brushing his hair off his face and he turns to see Evan looking at him, face tight with concern.

 

“Hey,” Connor murmurs. “Not feeling great.”

 

“Maureen said,” Evan replies, and he lies down next to him. “She also said that some guy in an expensive suit showed up and it freaked you out.” Connor doesn’t say anything and Evan sighs. “It was Larry, wasn’t it?”

 

“He bought books,” Connor says quietly. “He didn’t… he didn’t _do_ anything, I don’t know I’m being so stupid about this. I just… I didn’t expect to see him. I didn’t get your text until after he showed up.”

 

Evan frowns deeply and Connor hates it. “I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier-”

 

“Not your fault,” Connor says immediately. He sighs. Buries his face in the pillow. “I’m just… I just want to sleep.”

 

“It’s only 7.30,” Evan points out.

 

“And?”

 

“Come on,” Evan says, sighing a little. “I’ll order pizza and we’ll eat something.”

 

“There’s chili in the slow cooker,” Connor replies, sitting up and pushing his hair off his face. He winces. “Fuck. I forgot all about it.”

 

“Then we’ll eat chili,” Evan says, and he sits up too and grabs Connor’s hand. “I know better than anyone that sometimes you just want to… stay in bed and ignore everything, but I also know that it doesn’t really help.” He leans in and kisses him. “Let’s have some chili, and then we can watch a movie or something.”

 

“Okay,” Connor agrees, because he doesn’t want to be a hypocrite about this. He’d do the same thing if Evan didn’t want to get out of bed.

 

Hell, he’s done the same thing.

 

They head to the kitchen and Connor serves up some chili, and grabs some cornbread he’d bought before work to go with it, and they sit at the kitchen table and eat. Evan talks about his day and Connor listens and it’s… nice.

 

“I made an appointment to see Praveed tomorrow morning,” Connor says after a while. “Seeing Larry kind of… brought back some things that I still need to deal with.”

 

Evan looks at him, and Connor can tell that he’s trying to look encouraging but is more than a little concerned. “Okay,” he says carefully. “That’s good. Seeing Praveed… that’s good.” He takes another bite of his chili, then looks Connor in the eye. “You never really told me what it was your dad said, back in May.”

 

Connor can feel his shoulders tense immediately, and Evan’s eyes widen in alarm and he reaches out and puts his hand on his arm. “I’m not ready,” Connor manages to say. “I’m sorry, I’m just… I’m not ready for us to talk about it.” He tries to smile. “I’m going to talk to Praveed, try to process things a little more, and then maybe.”

 

“Okay,” says Evan, squeezing Connor’s arm gently. “That’s okay, you take the time you need.”

 

“I want to be honest with you,” Connor says frankly. “Because I think it’s important that we’re honest with each other. But it’s still… he said some things I’m still trying to get my head around, and they’re… definitely therapy things, and if I talk to you about it now I’m just going to lose it, and I don’t want to put that on you until I’ve come to some kind of… acceptance, or whatever.”

 

Evan nods. “I get it.” He offers Connor a soft smile. “Look at us, making healthy mental health decisions.”

 

“We’re nailing it,” Connor replies, the joke coming out a little weakly but this time, he does manage to smile at Evan, whose smile just gets bigger.

 

Neither of them are completely emotionally stable, that much Connor knows, but they’ve certainly both been a lot worse. They’ve made it to where they are now and they’ll keep on going, doing the work they need to do to keep themselves well and supporting each other the best they can.

 

“This is really good, by the way,” Evan says, gesturing to his bowl.

 

“Thanks,” Connor replies with a grin. “You can take some to work with you tomorrow if you want.”

 

“What time are you seeing Praveed tomorrow?” Evan asks.

 

“Eight-thirty.”

 

Evan nods. “I’ve got my medication in my bag,” he says, his face soft. “And there’s still a spare suit in your closet. I could stay over if you wanted?”

 

“That would be great,” Connor says, feeling the tightness in his chest unwind a little.

 

Evan grins, then kisses him again. “I know you’re basically Gordon Ramsay these days,” he continues with a smile, “but how about you let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night?”

 

Connor leans in and steals another kiss. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

Evan was sick with worry after he found Connor in bed the day that Larry showed up. It brought back everything from September, everything from how sick Connor was, how he stopped sleeping how he stopped existing.

But he kept it together. He had to. Connor had taken care of him when he had been sick, had held his hand as his anxiety rose, and Evan had been so grateful that he had stayed with him… So he stuck with Connor. He wanted to be there for him.

He stayed over that night, holding onto Connor the whole night as they watched a movie. He seemed less tucked into himself as the night wore on, more like he was actually there, and Evan was so relieved.

The next morning, Evan woke up before Connor. He wasn’t terribly adept in the kitchen, but he could scramble an egg and make toast so that was what he did. When Connor woke up, Evan had finished cooking and he set the table with eggs, toast, and coffee.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Connor said softly.

“I wanted to,” Evan said, kissing his cheek. “I don’t have anything until nine o’clock this morning. Do you want me to walk you to see Praveed?”

Connor smiled at him. “That would be great.”

Evan kissed him again, then sat across the table while they ate. They discussed where they were going to go to dinner that night, what time they thought they’d meet up… And Evan could tell that Connor was nervous, that he was worried about this appointment. So he reached out and took Connor’s hand… and he basically didn’t let go until they arrived at Praveed’s office building.

“You’re okay?” Evan asked him, standing in front of the building.

“I think so,” Connor said, looking a little warily at the door. “I think I will be.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Evan said. “Anything, I’m serious.”

Connor nodded. “I will.”

“I love you so much,” Evan said, pulling Connor into a hug. “I know this sucks but I’m really proud of you.”

“I love you too,” Connor said softly. “Thanks for walking me.”

“Of course.”

Evan kissed him three more times before Connor sucked in a deep breath and headed inside. He stayed, watching the door for a few minutes until Connor had disappeared from view then headed off toward his own office.

Evan knew he was distracted that morning. He checked his phone frequently, all through his phone conference with a client,  finally relaxing a little when Connor texted after his session saying it had gone alright and thanking Evan for walking him there.

Thank god.

Evan had another meeting at eleven with Asher in one of the firm’s bigger conference rooms, which meant he had to walk past Jonathan’s office to get there. “Hansen!” He heard behind him as he crossed the floor heading for his meeting. He turned to see Jonathan motioning him over, standing next to none other than Larry Fucking Murphy.

Evan felt his entire body flash with rage at the image of Connor’s father standing in his boss’s office. He could barely compose himself, hardly paste on a smile before Jonathan had dragged Evan into the office to reminisce about how Evan had beaten Larry last year.

Evan felt like there was a snake coiling in his stomach. He felt like he was going to be sick because part of him still believed the reason Larry had been so nasty to Connor in May of last year was because he was still smarting over his loss to Evan, still licking his wounds from the terrible shit Evan had said to him in his rage. And Evan barely knew what Larry had even said. He just knew how much it had hurt Connor, how much Connor had suffered in part because of whatever cruel thing Larry had said.

“Nice to see you again, Evan,” Larry said smiling blandly.

Evan said nothing. He barely smiled.

“Cynthia tells me you and Connor are an item now,” He went on. “I suppose I can’t fault him for picking someone as successful as you’ve become.”

Evan stared at Larry, his lips twitching into a frown. He could not believe this guy. He couldn’t fucking believe his nerve. As if Connor was interested in him because he was a moderately successful lawyer. If anything, Evan was willing to bet that his career was probably the thing Connor liked least about him.

He smiled at Larry, an unfriendly, almost hostile smile. “Connor’s an amazing person,” Evan said, his voice firm. “I’m very lucky. I can’t believe I’ve found someone so dedicated and hard working.”

Jonathan’s face lit up. “Hansen, you didn’t tell me you were dating Murphy’s son!” He sounded delighted. Larry gave him a dull smile. “Considering marrying into the family, huh? Sleeping with the enemy’s son?”

“I didn’t think my relationship was relevant to my work,” Evan said coolly.

Jonathan, ignoring him, started to go on about them all getting together for drinks. “Is your son as much of a shark as you are, Murphy?”

“Connor’s not a lawyer,” Larry said and there was obvious disappointment in his voice.

“Connor runs a very successful independent bookstore,” Evan said shortly. “Small businesses can really help to boost local economies. Plus he sells a wide variety of secondhand books and is working to power the store using solar panels in the next fiscal year, so he’s even environmentally conscious. Unlike his father.”

Jonathan looked absolutely delighted. Larry looked thunderous.

“Did you need me for something? I have a meeting,” Evan said courteously.

Jonathan started to say something about catching up, and Evan interrupted. “I’m sorry I don’t have time for pleasantries. I have a meeting.” He began to walk away, but something stopped him, something kept him from just leaving it. “Oh, and Larry?”

Larry’s eyes narrowed.

“Kendra McCool says hello. Her son is doing much better now. She wanted me to thank you, in fact. If you had actually put in the work, she might not be able to afford to send him to private school now.” He smiled at Larry. “Have a nice day.”

He left Larry fuming in Jonathan’s office to meet with Asher, who caught his eye. “What did you say to Larry Murphy? He’s basically _purple,_ dude.”

Evan smiled blandly. “Oh just that Kendra McCool says hi.”

“That’s cold bro,” Asher said, smiling brightly. “That’s fucking cold.”

Evan shrugged. “He had it coming.”

After Evan got off work that night, quickly ran home to change and then showed up to Connor’s with a packet of Oreos and a container of ice cream, just in case Connor was still not doing great after Larry’s surprise visit. Connor smiled at him gratefully, but Evan knew when he was putting on a brave face for him. He kissed Connor softly, pulled him into a tight hug, and stayed there until he felt some of the tension in Connor’s shoulders relax. “I love you so much,” He said.

“I love you too.”

“I was thinking we could go to that one noodle place we’ve been talking about for dinner?” Evan suggested. “The one with the cute steamed buns? Might be nice since it’s so cold out.”

Connor gave him a smile, a real one, and nodded. “That… sounds great.”

They walked to the restaurant, both complaining a little about the snow flurrying around them. “I’m tired of winter,” Connor said, wiping a snowflake from his face.

“Me too. Maybe we shouldn’t have picked a city that gets cold to put down roots.”

“Or we could just actually take a vacation someday,” Connor said, shrugging.

“You just want to see me in shorts.”

Connor grinned at him. “I like you in shorts. And you get all freckly in the sun.”

Evan smiled at him. “Okay. We’ll go to a beach someday. But only if you’re in shorts too.”

Connor wrinkled his nose. “You know how I feel about shorts.”

“Are you going to sit on the beach in skinny jeans?”

“Absolutely,” Connor said stubbornly.

Evan laughed. “Now I’m just going to have to pick you up and carry you into the water to prove a point.”

“You couldn’t pick me up,” Connor said. “I’m skinny, sure, but I’ve got long limbs and bones are heavy.”

“I could definitely pick you up,” Evan said, rolling his eyes.

“You could not.”

“I definitely could.”

“Bullshit.”

“Wanna bet?”

Connor smiled at him. “I love it when you get competitive.” Evan playfully shoved him, and Connor laughed and shoved him back. They had arrived at the noodle restaurant, and Connor winked at him. “Ah, see, you’re saved from embarrassing yourself by us arriving.”

Evan kissed Connor’s cheek, told his boyfriend he wasn’t as funny as he thought. 

“Oh, I know. I’m funnier.”

The noodle place was surprisingly good. The food was warm and comforting. Connor got ramen and kept intentionally slurping as loudly as possible after he spotted a sign on the wall encouraging it, which just cracked Evan up because it was adorably childish and he hoped that maybe that meant Connor was feeling a little bit better about having been ambushed by his dad.

They ordered sweet steamed buns for dessert, and as they were pulling apart an adorable egg custard golden retriever with chopsticks, Evan asked Connor how his session with Praveed had gone.

“It was alright…” Connor said softly, looking down at his food. “I’m not… I still don’t think I’m ready? To tell you what my dad said. If that’s… okay.”

Evan took Connor’s hand gently in his. “Of course. I just want to make sure you’re doing okay. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. I trust you.”

Connor smiled. It was a sort of sad, half-hearted smile, but Evan would take it. He rubbed his thumb along Connor’s knuckles, and they just sat there quietly for a moment, until Connor straightened his shoulders and went back to eating his steamed bun. “You know, egg custard is really just fancy scrambled eggs. I can’t believe you let me order them.”

“Oh my god,” Evan said, laughing. “There’s more skill involved in custard making! If you could make it just by, like, pouring sugar in some eggs I’d see an issue.”

“Gross,” Connor said, eating the rest of his bun. “That’s disgusting.” He pulled out his phone to look up how to make egg custard. “I bet I could make this. It doesn’t sound that hard.”

“Okay Masterchef, your skills outstrip mine by miles.”

“No, really, it looks pretty simple. I bet _you_ could make it,” Connor said, showing him a recipe.

“But-” Evan started to protest, looking at the recipe and realizing, annoying, that he probably _could_ figure it out. It just wouldn't be easy. Or good.

“I just think you lawyered yourself out of being able to order egg custard in front of me.”

“Oh my god,” Evan said, laughing. “I love you so much but please shut up.”

“Never. Not until you admit you just ordered fancy scrambled eggs.”

“By that principle, you’ve just eliminated omelets and French Toast as well! And we both know I can’t make those, so I think you’ve unfairly altered the criteria of merely scrambling an egg.”

Connor leaned over and kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“But you ordered eggs.”

“Fuck off Connor,” Evan said giggling.

The pair of them walked home through an unexpectedly thick blanket of snow covering the streets, their footsteps leaving prints the whole way from the noodle place to Connor’s apartment. Evan was glad he had worn his hat, and more glad he had asked Connor to wear one because his hair was already soaked from the chin down from the short walk back to the bookstore. Connor shivered as he unlocked the door, muttering that he was “over winter” as he armed the alarm again.

“Same,” Evan said, rubbing his hands together. They trooped up the stairs, kicking off their snowy shoes and wet socks and hanging up their jackets. Evan was glad he had stopped off at home because his sweater was a lot better at keeping him warm than a suit would have been. Connor looked at him, frowning, and said he was going to go and turn on the heater in his room.

“Did you want to stay over?”

Evan smiled, nodding. “Yeah. If you’ll have me.”

“Of course,” Connor said, putting his cold hands on the back of Evan’s neck. “I love having you here.”

Evan smiled and then kissed him, softly at first but then deepening it a little, enjoying the way Connor started to relax against him.

And then once Evan was absolutely sure Connor wasn’t paying attention, he bent slightly, hoisted Connor over his shoulder, and picked him up, heading toward Connor’s bedroom.

“What the hell?” Connor had yelped only to immediately start laughing.

“Told you I could pick you up,” Evan said, and really, he was not going to let it stand that his boyfriend didn’t think he was able to be easily picked up. “Your cat weighs more than you do, you scarecrow.”

Connor laughed again, helplessly flailing his limbs a bit and Evan could feel him laughing, feel his chest and stomach moving against his shoulder, a wonderful, delicious reminder that Connor was real and alive and _here_. “Why are you carrying me around?”

“Because I told you I could do it!” Evan said. “I’m illustrating a point.”

“Well are you going to put me back down?”

Evan laughed a little. “Maybe not. I’ll just carry you around like this forever.”

“Gonna make it awfully hard to kiss me,” Connor said, “Seeing as I’m currently staring at your ass.”

“You like my ass,” Evan said, swinging Connor around once more to demonstrate that picking him up was not a hardship.  Having arrived in Connor’s bedroom, Evan gently flopped him back onto the mattress. Connor pulled Evan on top of him, kissing him a few times, still sort of giggling.

“I can’t believe you picked me up,” Connor said, kissing him again.

“I’m starting to feel like maybe I should be insulted that you think I have no upper body strength,” Evan said, smiling and tucking a strand of hair behind Connor’s ear.

“I just don’t know where you find time to work out, is all,” Connor said. “You’re always here.”

“I’ve got a pretty good cardio routine, I think,” Evan said, kissing Connor’s cheek. “I’m gonna go turn on the heater.”

“Or I could warm you up?” Connor said, eyebrows up, giving Evan a look that Evan knew meant Connor was picturing him naked.

Evan grinned at him. “I love you.” He kissed Connor again.

“I love you too.”

“I’m still turning on the space heater though,” Evan said. “It’s freezing!” He got out of bed, hurrying to turn the heater on and then rushing back to Connor, hurrying to cover him in kisses, his hands gently caressing Connor’s torso, pushing up his shirt a little and kissing his stomach, his ribcage, his chest. Connor put his hands above his head and Evan pulled off Connor’s shirt. He kissed Connor’s collarbone, his neck, and used his teeth to trace the shell of Connor’s ear which made Connor’s skin erupt in goosebumps. “God you are so beautiful,” He said softly, kissing Connor’s mouth again. Connor kissed him back softly, his hand on the back of Evan’s neck like he didn’t want him going anywhere and Evan rested his hand against Connor’s hip and pulled him closer.

Connor kissed him harder, pulling at Evan’s sweater, and they parted briefly so Evan could pull it off. Evan rolled Connor onto his back, kissing his way down his neck, chest, and stomach before stopping at the waistband of Connor’s jeans. Normally, Evan would pause here, make Connor tell him what he wanted, make him ask for it but… he just wanted to make him feel good tonight. Connor had a shitty week and Evan thought if he could make it even the slightest bit better, he would. He kissed Connor’s stomach again, then unbuckled his belt. Undid his fly and the button of his jeans and Connor lifted his hips slightly so Evan could pull his jeans and underwear down and off. Connor sighed when Evan pressed a soft kiss to his inner thigh, then another wetter kiss against his hip bone.

“Fuck,” Connor mumbled as Evan gently kissed the crown of his dick, then ran his tongue along the underside of the head. Evan took more of him into his mouth then, and he knew Connor liked it immediately because his hand tangled in Evan’s hair. He hummed in pleasure because he actually really liked it when Connor did that, and Connor’s hips bucked slightly at the sensation. He dragged his tongue over the underside of Connor’s cock again, then swirled it over the head, and Connor swore and whined, and Evan focused suction on the tip, focused on just making Connor feel good, and Connor was moaning, swearing.

“Fuck, your mouth,” Connor groaned.

Evan smiled to himself, just for a moment, licking the slit of Connor’s cock and enjoying the way his hips bucked, almost helplessly, his other hand gently cupping Connor’s balls, his lips wrapping around the tip of his cock again and Connor’s grip on his hair was tightening and he moaned again, louder, and barely managed to say, “I’m going to-” before he was coming in Evan’s mouth, and Evan swallowed it, keeping his mouth on Connor until he was finally spent. He pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and pressing a soft kiss to Connor’s hip which made Connor shudder.

“I love you,” Evan said, smiling at Connor.

“I love you too, oh my god,” Connor said, and he was pulling Evan to him, his hands clumsily going for his belt.

“You don’t have t-” Evan started and Connor kissed him, his hand reaching into Evan’s jeans and stroking him.

“I love you,” Connor said, “But I think you ought to take off your pants so I can get you off.”

Evan swallowed audibly. “Okay.” He didn’t need telling twice. He stood up, almost dizzily, and stepped out of his jeans. Connor grabbed him roughly, his hands on Evan’s hips, his mouth kissing Evan’s neck.

“You’re so hard,” Connor said, kissing Evan again as he took his cock in his hand. “Fuck, you’re leaking. Is this from making me come?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, his voice rough. “I like making you feel good.”

Connor smiled harder. “Fuck I love you so much,” he said, stroking Evan. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” Evan said, breathless, as Connor continued to pump him.

“You’re not gonna last long huh?” Connor said.

“Can’t help it, you’re so hot.”

Connor kissed his neck again and that was basically it for Evan. Connor twisted his wrist slightly and Evan was spilling into his hand, his mind blissfully blank, and Connor kissed his cheek. Connor got up after a moment, fetching a washcloth to clean Evan up and then he laid down beside him, curling around Evan and tucking his head into Evan’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Evan said.

Connor smiled at him. “I love you too.” He kissed Evan’s cheek. “Thank you for… the last couple of days. I know I’ve been…”

“You’ve been fine,” Evan said honestly. “You’re allowed to have feelings about this stuff, okay? Don’t feel bad that you feel bad or whatever. You’re allowed. And I’ll be here, okay? No matter what.”

Connor gave Evan this soft, almost bashful smile. “I… I love you so much.” He said it softly, almost reverently, and Evan kissed his lips softly.

“I love you too,” He said. “More than anything.”

 

* * *

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“The internet says I can roast a chicken in a slow cooker,” Connor explains, turning around to see Evan coming out of the bathroom in sweatpants and a t-shirt, having just finished a shower. “I’m almost done getting it ready.”

 

“You’re becoming a real Masterchef,” Evan jokes, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Connor’s waist. Connor takes a moment to enjoy Evan’s embrace, then puts the chicken in the slow cooker on top of the various vegetables the recipe had recommended, sprinkles on the spice mix and then puts the lid on.

 

He takes a moment to wash his hands thoroughly before turning to Evan and kissing him properly. “I can use a slow cooker,” he says with a laugh. “And I can bake. Actual cooking? Still a little out of reach. I’m working on it.”

 

“I grew up with a single mom who never really had the time to cook,” Evan says matter-of-factly. “It’s not hard to impress me.”

 

Evan looks good, Connor notes. Much better than he had been when he’d had walking pneumonia. Much healthier. His skin is less pale, he looks far more well-rested and he seems a lot less anxious. He doesn’t just look healthy, he looks good. Amazing, even.

 

He’s the most beautiful person Connor’s ever met.

 

“Would it impress you to know that before I put that chicken in the slow cooker, I shoved a lemon and some garlic up its ass?” Connor asks, and Evan cracks up laughing, and it’s Connor’s favourite sound in the world. When he stops laughing, Connor leans in to kiss him again. “We’re not going to eat a whole chicken tonight,” he says matter-of-factly, “so I can send you to work next week with leftovers.”

 

“So domestic,” Evan says with a fond smile. “Next thing you know you’ll be cooking the chicken in pearls and high heels.”

 

“And nothing else,” Connor quips, and Evan laughs again. Connor pulls Evan in for a hug and just kind of holds onto him in the middle of his kitchen for a moment. “Hey,” he says after a while. “Guess what?”

 

“What?”

 

“I love you.”

 

“You’re such a dork,” Evan groans, and kisses him anyway. He reaches up to tangle his fingers in Connor’s hair, tugging on it gently, and Connor deepens the kiss, pulling Evan closer to him. He pulls away to start kissing Evan’s neck and Evan lets out a sigh, and Connor’s encouraged to keep going. He’s busy lavishing affection on Evan’s undeniably beautiful collarbone when Evan pulls his hair a little harder than before and Connor looks at him.

 

“Hi,” Connor says with a smirk.

 

“I’ve been thinking,” says Evan, his voice even but his eyes burning, “that you’ve had a set of restraints under your bed for a whole _year_ now, and somehow, I’ve never tied _you_ up.”

 

Connor can feel his cock twitch at Evan’s words.

 

Fuck.

 

Fuuuuuuuuck.

 

“That’s true,” he says, and he knows his voice sounds ragged, because his throat has suddenly gone very dry.

 

“I think that’s a fucking travesty,” Evan says, still looking at Connor intently, and he bites his lip for a moment and Connor takes in a sharp breath. “I think you would enjoy being tied up and fucked, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Connor says immediately. “Fucking hell, yes.”

 

Evan’s eyes flash with lust, with hunger, and the air starts to crackle a little with anticipation. “And if I tied you up and fucked you,” says Evan, running his fingers along Connor’s hip bone slowly, “would you be a good boy for me?”

 

Okay.

 

That’s… that’s how this is going, okay.

 

“Yes sir,” Connor says, almost gasping. “I’d be a good boy for you, sir.”

 

“I thought you might say that,” Evan replies, and he’s smirking now. “On your knees.” Connor doesn’t hesitate. He drops to his knees, feeling his heart pounding faster. “Very good,” says Evan, his voice firm and unwavering and fuck fuck fuck, Evan is so hot like this. “Show me how good you can be.”

 

Connor can see how hard Evan is through his sweatpants, and internally thanks Evan for not deciding to wear jeans when he got out of the shower because it’s far, far easier to get to his cock as quickly as possible. It takes barely any time to pull down Evan’s sweatpants and boxers and take his cock in his mouth, licking and sucking, focusing all his attention, because he likes making Evan feel good. Likes being good for Evan.

 

“Fuck,” Evan mutters under his breath. He’s got his hand in Connor’s hair, tugging on it gently, as if urging him to continue. “You’re so fucking good at this, oh my god.” Evan moans, a long, drawn-out sound, then tugs on his hair a little harder. “Bedroom. Now.”

 

Connor’s happy to comply.

 

When they get to the bedroom, Evan throws him down on the bed, straddles him and kisses him hard, pinning his hands down by his wrists. Connor kisses him back enthusiastically, letting himself enjoy the feel of Evan pressed up against him, then Evan pulls back, lets go of his wrists and takes Connor’s face in his hands gently. “Remember,” he says, his voice soft despite the intensity of his gaze, “safeword is shellfish.”

 

Connor laughs, then puts his arms up over his head. Evan pulls off Connor’s shirt, then reaches down and pulls off his sweatpants and boxers, then his socks, then straddles Connor again and kisses him hard. “I’m going to tie you up now,” he says. “Would you like that?”

 

“Yes sir,” Connor gasps, and Evan grins at him. Evan reaches to the corner of the mattress and pulls out the first restraint, gently cuffing Connor’s wrist. Then the next wrist, and then Connor’s ankles. They’re soft against his limbs, not chafing at all, but they’re definitely… restraining.

 

Connor feels exposed and vulnerable, spread-eagled and naked on his bed, tied up and immobilised, and Evan’s looking at him with undisguised want in his eyes. “Fuck,” says Evan, his voice almost reverent. “Wow. Connor, I…” He takes in a breath, then smiles, his whole face softening. “You’re so beautiful like this. I love you so much.”

 

“I love you,” Connor replies, smiling at him.

 

Evan leans down and kisses him deeply, and Connor lets himself melt into it, then Evan pulls back and looks at him. “I’m going to blindfold you now,” he says, looking at Connor hungrily. “Do you want me to blindfold you?”

 

“Yes,” Connor says immediately.

 

Evan’s eyes flash. “Yes what?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Very good.”

 

Evan reaches over to get the blindfold out from the bedside table and Connor braces himself for it. He knows how much he likes seeing Evan tied up and blindfolded, how much he likes making him lose control, how having him immobilized and unable to see what was coming made Connor feel so powerful. He’s eager to find out what it’s like on the other end of that.

 

And he knows he can trust Evan. Trust him to keep him safe, to make him feel good, make him feel fucking amazing, and that if Connor changes his mind or something doesn’t feel right, all he has to do is say the word and Evan will stop immediately.

 

He can trust Evan to stop if he needs to, and that’s what makes him even more eager to let go.

 

If Connor lets go, he knows Evan will be there to anchor him.

 

Just like always.

 

Evan kisses him again, gentler this time, and he’s holding the blindfold. Connor feels his breathing hitch a little, and Evan pushes Connor’s hair out of his face, then kisses him on the forehead. “Is this okay?” he asks gently. “You can stop me anytime.”

 

“I want this,” Connor insists. “I want you to blindfold me, sir.”

 

Evan kisses him again, then secures the blindfold over Connor’s eyes.

 

And everything is dark.

 

It’s dark, it’s pitch black, and Connor closes his eyes and just focuses on his other senses. He can feel the soft cuffs against his wrists and ankles, the satiny material of the blindfold on his face. He licks his lips and can taste salt and a faint aftertaste of toothpaste from kissing Evan. He can hear his own heartbeat, steadily speeding up, and he can hear Evan breathing.

 

Then he hears Evan speak.

 

“You’re so beautiful. You are so, so fucking beautiful like this. Do you like being all tied up and helpless for me?”

 

“Yes sir,” Connor says automatically, because this is mind-blowingly hot, not knowing what will happen, not knowing what Evan will do next, not being able to see what’s coming.

 

The first sensation he feels is a kiss on his inner thigh and he feels himself shudder in response. Even though the kiss is featherlight, it goes right through him. He moans and before he can recover, there’s a hot, deeper kiss on his hip, then another and another and another, slowly moving down toward his cock but never reaching it, and he’s achingly hard, his cock desperately needs attention but he knows that if he has to wait, it’ll be all that much better when he finally gets the release he craves.

 

The waiting makes it all better.

 

Connor finds his body writhing in response before he really registers what’s happening. It takes a few minutes to realize that Evan’s running his teeth along his neck, biting at it, and Connor knows it’s going to leave a mark and that’s even hotter. He’ll be able to see the reminder that Evan’s claimed him, that he’s Evan’s, fuck fuck fuck it’s so hot he finds himself whimpering a little.

 

“You respond so beautifully when I touch you,” says Evan, his voice low and rough and so fucking sexy. “You like it when I touch you like this, don’t you?”

 

“Yes sir,” says Connor, and it’s like the words just pour out of him automatically, like it’s completely natural that when Evan’s got him at his mercy like this, it’s natural to call him sir, to acknowledge that he’s in control, that he’s in charge of Connor’s pleasure and that’s just so fucking hot he can’t stand it. “I like it, sir.”

 

“Mmmm,” Evan moans, and Connor arches his back off the bed in surprise as Evan licks the underside of his cock. “This is driving you crazy, isn’t it? Not knowing what’ll happen next. Not being able to anticipate what I’ll do.”

 

“Yes sir,” Connor moans.

 

“You’re so good for me,” Evan says, his voice approving, and Connor likes hearing that he’s good for Evan, likes being praised like this, it just makes it all hotter, knowing that he’s pleasing Evan. “Such a good boy, all tied up and helpless.” Connor can feel Evan’s mouth around his cock all of a sudden, his tongue swirling across the tip, and it sends even more pleasure through him, makes him moan and writhe, and then Evan’s mouth is gone and Connor can hear him let out a low chuckle. “Such a good boy. So beautifully responsive.”

 

Connor can feel the bed moving, feel Evan shifting, and then he can feel the heat of Evan’s body near his and it makes him gasp a little then there’s something pressing at his lips and he realizes that it’s Evan’s cock.

 

“Open your mouth,” Evan instructs, and Connor obeys, and Evan’s cock is in his mouth and he focuses everything he has on licking and sucking and making Evan feel good, he has to please him, it feels so good to be tied up and helpless and made to suck Evan’s cock. Evan’s moaning and gasping and pulling his hair and pushing more of his cock into Connor’s mouth, fucking his mouth and it sends this shudder of pleasure through Connor, being used like this, his body spread out for Evan do with what he wants.

 

“That’s it,” Evan says, his voice rough. “Fuck, I love your mouth, you’re so good for me.” Evan tugs at his hair and Connor moans and Evan gasps a little. “Fuck. Such a good boy.”

 

All of a sudden Connor’s mouth is empty and he’s panting, almost missing the sensation, missing the contact, and he can feel the bed moving and can hear the sound of the lube bottle being opened and another bolt of pleasure flows through him as he anticipates what’s coming next.

 

Connor shudders at the sudden sensation of Evan’s lube-slick finger inside him, colder than expected. He moans loudly, as Evan’s finger goes slowly, so slowly, agonizingly slowly, and Connor can hear Evan take in a sharp intake of breath as his fingers stop moving abruptly.

 

“Do you want my fingers?” Evan asks, demands, his voice firm.

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“I think you can ask me nicer than that.”

 

A shudder goes through him. “Please sir,” Connor begs. “Fuck me with your fingers, get me ready for your cock, please sir.”

 

Connor can hear Evan moan, and then all of a sudden Evan’s mouth is by his ear, and it’s like the words are resonating through him, becoming a part of him. “Do you think you’ve been good enough for my cock? Have you been a good boy who deserves fucking?”

 

“Please sir,” Connor begs, desperate to convince him, because the idea of not being fucked is unbearable right now, he desperately needs Evan to fuck him. “I need your cock, sir, I’ve been so good for you, I’ll be so good for you, please sir, I’ll do anything you want, please please please fuck me, sir-”

 

His pleading is cut off by Evan’s mouth on his, hot and wet and intoxicating, and Evan resumes fingering him, adding in another finger now, stretching him open and it feels fucking amazing, it feels so good, so right. He’s so hard, but he knows that he needs to keep being good, keep being such a good boy and if he’s good, Evan will let him come.

 

“Fuck,” Evan gasps in his ear. “Fuck, I love you so much, you’re such a good boy for me, Connor, you’re so fucking beautiful like this, I love you so much.”

 

“I need your cock, sir,” Connor says again, begs and pleads, it’s all he can think about, how much he needs Evan to fuck him right now, how much he needs to be a good boy for Evan. “I’ll be so good for you, please please please fuck me, sir.”

 

“Oh, I’m going to fuck you,” Evan says, and it’s like a promise, and it makes Connor gasp and moan. “I’m going to fuck you so well, you’ve been such a good boy for me, you’ve made me so proud. You’ve done so well, fuck Connor, you’re so good like this, I love you like this, I love you so much.”

 

Evan’s fingers are gone seconds later and Connor whimpers loudly, desperately missing the sensation, and then he barely registers the sounds of a condom wrapper being ripped open, barely registers that Evan must be rolling a condom over his cock and getting ready to fuck him, because all that matters is how achingly empty he feels, how much he needs Evan to fuck him, needs Evan to fuck him hard, needs to be a good boy for Evan.

 

“Please sir,” he begs, over and over again. “Please sir, please fuck me sir, please…” He nearly sobs in relief at the feeling of Evan entering him, it just feels so good, all he can think of is how good it feels, how much he needs to be fucked, how much he needs to be good for Evan.

 

“That’s it,” Evan says in his ear as he slowly fucks him. “That’s what you need, isn’t it, beautiful? You need to be fucked, you need to be good for me, don’t you?”

 

“Yes sir,” Connor gasps. “Need to be good for you, fuck, yes sir.”

 

Evan keeps fucking him, kissing his neck and whispering praises in Connor’s ear, telling him how good he is, how hot he is, how beautiful he is, how much Evan loves him, and it’s overwhelming, it’s too much. Connor loses himself in how good this feels, in this hazy, almost high feeling of submission - this feeling of helplessness as he can’t do anything but feel, can’t do anything but let Evan have everything he wants, and it’s so fucking intoxicating. He has to be good for Evan, he has to be a good boy, he has no choice - he’s helpless, he can’t resist sinking into the white-hot pleasure of it all.

 

“Don’t come until I tell you to,” Evan warns, and Connor nods frantically.

 

“Yes sir.”

 

Evan rolls his hips as he fucks Connor and Connor thrusts up to meet him, does his best to make Evan feel good, and Evan slows down his pace, bit by bit, until he’s fucking Connor agonizingly slowly again, and Connor can feel himself start to drift, feel his mind start to almost shut down until all there is, all he can comprehend right now is pleasure.

 

There’s a hot mouth on his neck, kissing him over and over again, biting at him and sending pleasure throughout him.

 

He’s being fucked, and it gets faster and harder, and it feels so fucking good.

 

And there is a voice in his ear, telling him that he’s such a good boy.

 

That he’s doing so well, that he’s responding so beautifully, that it’s not time for him to come yet, and he knows that he has to obey, he can’t come until he has permission.

 

There’s the sound of moaning and gasping and he’s being steadily fucked and there is a hand wrapping around his cock and he gasps and moans and writhes and then he’s being asked questions.

 

“Do you want to come for me?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this. You’re close, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

He can hear his own heartbeat and a pounding in his ears and he’s being fucked so hard and there’s a hand on his cock and finally, finally he hears what he needs to hear.

 

“Fuck, Connor, fuck I - come for me, fuck, Connor you’re so good, I want you to come for me, good boy.”

 

And everything is pleasure. Every single part of him, every molecule, and he can feel himself let go, feel himself surrender to pleasure, and he comes and he comes and it’s like it never ends, like it’s a moment frozen in time and he’s panting and gasping for breath and everything’s just too much, too overwhelming, everything is just pleasure.

 

“Fuck,” he hears Evan swear, but it’s like he’s hearing it from underwater, from another room.

 

And then there’s light, all of a sudden. He closes his eyes firmly, trying to get used to the sudden change, and blinks a few times and everything is hazy, it’s like he’s not really seeing anything, and it takes him a few moments to realize that Evan is saying his name.

 

“Connor. Connor, hey.” He can feel a hand on his face, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Come back to me.” It takes a moment, but he blinks a few times and focuses on Evan, who’s still touching him, pushing his hair off his face. Evan presses a kiss to his forehead and looks at Connor, frowning a little.

 

“Are you okay?” Evan asks. “Was that… was that too much?”

 

“It was so good,” Connor says, and he knows he’s slurring his words. He feels kind of high from the pleasure of it all. “Intense. Just need… just a minute.”

 

He closes his eyes, and he feels his wrists and his ankles being uncuffed, but he doesn’t really have the energy to move to test out having the freedom to move back. He feels boneless, weightless, but heavy at the same time, and he realizes that he’s trembling.

 

“I love you,” says Evan, and Evan’s pulling Connor close to him, even though they’re both sweaty, sticky messes. “I love you so much, Connor, that was… fucking hell, I just love you so much.”

 

Evan’s hands run protectively over his body, like they’re trying to still the tremors, and Connor focuses on coming back to himself, on the feel of Evan’s hands against his skin, of Evan’s voice telling him he loves him, bringing him back to earth, back to solid ground, and Evan has always been solid ground.

 

It takes a while, but Connor stops trembling. He rolls over gingerly and turns to face Evan. “Hey,” he says, his voice a little rough. “Guess what?”

 

Evan laughs a little. “What?”

 

“I love you.”

 

Evan smiles, that smile that could rival the sun. He pulls Connor closer. “I love you, too.”

 

After a while, Evan goes to get a washcloth to clean them both up. Connor feels weirdly lonely in the barely two minutes he’s gone. Once they’ve cleaned up a little, they get back into their pajamas, Evan talking to him softly the whole time, telling him he loves him, and it helps Connor feel a little less untethered. Evan gets them both some water, which helps soothe his throat, and tucks his hair behind his ear and kisses his cheek and Connor loves him so fucking much.

 

Soon they’re both under the blankets, and Connor rests his head on Evan’s chest, Evan’s hand stroking his hair softly. It doesn’t take long for him to drift into sleep.

 

* * *

 

Sabrina asked Evan to grab a drink on a Friday night, but she was specific that she wanted it to be just the two of them, which Evan found a little unusual. Usually, if Evan hung out with Sabrina, there was at least the offer to invite their boyfriends. Though Evan supposed this could be a bit of a blessing, because Connor… didn’t like Sabrina. Evan knew that and he knew that he couldn’t just force Connor to be fine with her, but it… bugged him, that Connor didn’t like her. Sabrina was an important part of Evan’s life, and he had (perhaps stupidly) assumed that Connor’s dislike had more to do with jealousy than anything and that it would fade now that Evan and Connor were an established couple.

But if anything, Connor seemed to dislike her more. He was never anything but polite to her and he never said anything outright rude even when he and Evan were together in private but… Evan could just tell. He had frequently voiced confusion about why Evan wanted to be friends with Sabrina. And if Evan ever mentioned an insecurity based on past relationships, Connor was quick to blame Sabrina, as if Evan hadn’t been there too, making bigger messes.

So he wasn’t too put out to get a night off from trying desperately to make his boyfriend like his ex. And it was always nice to see Sabrina, who was in the thick of wedding planning now. The wedding was scheduled for the summer, so the six month mark was upon her, and last time Evan had talked to her she was trying to figure out a hairstyle for herself (and also calm her mother down because Sabrina’s sister Tabitha had just gone out and gotten herself a Big Gay Haircut which had sent their mom into an emotional tailspin).

They met up for a drink in Sabrina’s neighborhood because the bartender liked her and often gave her free snacks. Evan found himself being pulled into a tight tight hug when he saw her, and he smiled when he hugged her back. She smelled the same, like apples and Clinique Happy. She was smiling, wearing a bright, happy red top and black jeans with sneakers. “It was a dress down day at work,” She explained.

“I literally don’t know if I’ve ever seen you in jeans,” Evan said with a grin. “Even when we moved to New York, you were wearing leggings and a t-shirt dress.”

Sabrina shrugged. “I can change and evolve.”

Evan raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“Okay admittedly that sounds like bullshit, but they’re actually cute, right?”

“They are cute,” Evan insisted because they were.

“Thank you.” She grabbed a seat on a bar stool and her bartender friend appeared, immediately dropping off some whiskey for Evan and Sabrina. “I was just really surprised to find a pair I liked that actually fit, you know?”

Evan nodded. “I’m glad you did.”

“So how are you feeling? You said you were sick.”

Evan nodded. “Yeah, I was out of commission for a bit. It sucked, honestly. I felt like I got hit by a bus. But I’m feeling a lot better now.”

“Good,” Sabrina said. “I called Connor and asked if you guys needed anything but he said he had it under control.”

“Yeah, he’s kind of become a wiz with a crockpot? I’m not sure I’ve ever eaten this many vegetables in my entire life,” Evan said smiling. “There’s this curry with sweet potatoes that we used to get from this Thai place all of the time? He makes his own now and I honestly think it’s better. Less greasy, more spicy? It’s good.”

“That’s good,” Sabrina said, but her smile was kind of tight.

“Is everything okay?”

“Well I wanted to talk to you,” Sabrina said. “About Connor.”

Evan felt a rock in his stomach, heavy and painful. “What about him?”

“Well. I like him a lot? I think he’s… such a good guy and really good for you and I really like him. But I… Did I - He doesn’t like me,” Sabrina said softly. “And like, I don’t. Understand why? Like. If it was the ex thing, I’d get it. But he doesn’t really seem to care much that you and I were together, really. Or if he just hated me in high school or something but… I don’t understand why he doesn’t like me.”

Evan didn’t know what to say because, honestly, he wasn’t totally sure why Connor didn’t like Sabrina either. “I… I’m so sorry, has he said anything? I can talk to him or-”

“Oh my god, Ev, no,” Sabrina said. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. I just. I don’t want to make things weird between you and Connor, because you two seem so good and so happy together… But you are one of my best friends and I. I don’t want to lose you again, I don’t want that _at all_. I just don’t understand why he doesn’t like me.”

Evan took a sip of his drink. “I… I don’t know either. I’m sorry. I don’t get it. I want him to like you.”

Sabrina smiled slightly. “Okay, that’s… a relief.”

“He hasn’t ever really dated before?” Evan said softly. “And maybe the… being friends with an ex thing doesn’t make sense to him?”

“Okay,” Sabrina said, nodding. “Maybe? I just… It doesn’t feel like that’s it to me, you know? Like I guess… maybe if I had cheated or something? But we just… we just broke up, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. He just seems really… worried whenever we hang out?”

“Yeah. And I’ve explained to him that like, the breakup wasn’t anyone’s fault really?” Evan said. “And, again, I take responsibility for the way things ended with us. You didn’t. You didn’t do anything. It wasn’t you, I was the -”

“Evan, you don’t need to explain what happened to me,” Sabrina said softly. “I was there.”

“I know, but I… I just don’t want you thinking I’ve been going around, like, blaming you? Or making it sound like I was this, like, victim or whatever, okay?”

“I don’t think that,” Sabrina said. “But it’s nice to hear.”

They ordered another drink.

“I know I have a pathological need to be liked,” Sabrina said after a moment.

“You do,” Evan said smiling a little. “When that fifth grader your first year teaching said he didn’t like your class you cried for three hours.”

“I maintain his reasons were based in misogyny,” Sabrina said. “But that’s not the point. The point is… I want your fucking boyfriend to not hate me.”

“I don’t think he _hates_ you.”

“But he doesn’t like me,” Sabrina said. “And I don’t get it. And I hate that.”  She finished her drink.

Evan nodded. “I do too. If that helps at all?” He finished his drink. “I don’t want him to hate you. It’s the opposite of what I want.”

Sabrina nodded. She ordered them some more drinks and they tried to talk about other things, but Sabrina still seemed distracted and a bit down. After four drinks, Sabrina looked at Evan and said, “How susceptible to bribes is Connor?”

Evan wasn’t sure. His head was a bit fuzzy. “I don’t know. I’ve never really tried to bribe him. He does respond well to rewards? Like… in a sex way. That’s a bit TMI though, I realize…  Why?”

“Because I’m gonna make him like me damn it,” Sabrina said, and she was giggling, clearly a little bit drunk and then Evan laughed too because her laugh was always infectious. “I’m gonna go… buy some books. And feed him. He’s gonna eat and take my money and be my fucking friend, damn it.”

“You are so weird,” Evan said, but he was still smiling.

“I’m weird?! Your boyfriend hates me, the most likable gal in the whole fucking universe. Everyone likes me, Evan. Everyone. Even your _dad_.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Evan said, shrugging. “If I could just make him like you I would.”

Sabrina smiled at him. “I know you would. You’re good like that.”

“Yeah,” Evan said.

“Does your mom like him?”

“Mom loves him,” Evan admitted. “She… It’s sort of cute actually, they text sometimes? Mostly about like books and stuff. Connor’s trying to convert her to a crockpot queen after she confessed to eating a lot of take out. And when I was sick he called her to see if she had any suggestions to help me out? Which was just… so sweet.”

“That’s adorable.”

“She told him to run off to Mexico,” Evan said, shrugging.”

Sabrina laughed. “She’s got a point,” She said, smiling. “I’m glad she likes Connor. Your mom has a good judge of character.”

“She liked you too,” Evan said. “Still does, of course, but it’s… different now.”

“It’s okay if she likes Connor more, you know,” Sabrina said. “I think you two… make more sense than you and I did.”

Evan nodded because she was probably right. He and Connor did have a lot more in common. Not just surface things, but similar experiences, similar traumas. They could relate in ways that other people couldn’t. “You’re probably right.”

“You said, last year when we got drinks…. That Connor’s in therapy too, right?”

“Oh. Uh,” Evan said, surprised. “He is.”

“And I know he had a hard time a few months ago… like mental health-wise.”

“Yeah.”

“I remember he missed some school our senior year, and Zoe told me what happened but… Is he like… does he think I’m judging him about that? That I’m judging him about mental health shit?” Sabrina asked, her face twisted with concern. “Because I really do try not to be like, judgy or stigmatizing or whatever, you know? Just. Like. Shit happens, and this summer I just wanted to do something nice when he wasn’t doing great because I know he’s important to you. Also muffins are good.”

“I don’t… I don’t think it’s that,” Evan said, frowning. The thing was… He had a theory about what it was, but he couldn’t exactly just _tell_ Sabrina. Because if he did, it would involve mentioning how he had died a few dozen times. And Evan thought Connor still thought Sabrina getting engaged to Graham was what had led Evan to jump off of his roof two Februarys ago. Evan knew that wasn’t strictly true. It was a piece of the puzzle, sure, but it wasn’t the biggest piece or even the straw that broke the camel’s back. Evan had decided to get a drink that night after seeing Sabrina was engaged on Facebook, sure, but he didn’t formulate a plan until after he left the liquor store. He had gone to a liquor store and became paralyzed over picking something to drink, paralyzed by having to make a choice and then he knocked a bottle over, and that was it for him, because it felt like the bottle was a metaphor for how he couldn’t do anything right. He went home and killed himself, not because of Sabrina, but because of everything.

But he couldn’t tell her that Connor held her responsible, because that would mean telling her the entire truth. Because if he told her, it meant admitting to dying over a dozen times, and he knew that was a one-way ticket to Sabrina calling his mom because he had scared the hell out of her. And then there was the whole suicide wrinkle…

Evan couldn’t tell her. He wouldn’t tell her.

“I’m just… I’m lost here and it makes me sad and now I’m sad and I’m drunk.”

Evan smiled at her. “I know. Me too. It sucks.”

“It does.” She slung an arm around him, briefly, just a quick one-armed hug. “Connor’s pretty protective of you, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Evan asked because, yeah, Connor was protective, but he didn’t know how Sabrina would know that.

“He’s texted you three times,” She said, pointing to his phone, sitting untouched on the bar. “Also he yelled at me for upsetting you when we got drinks last October.”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “Hang on.” He read the texts from Connor - just checking in, asking if Evan wanted to come over when he and Sabrina called it a night. “Sorry,” He said turning his eyes back to Sabrina. “I don’t want it to come across like he’s… keeping tabs on where I am, he just wanted to check in to make sure I’m okay.”

“That’s it!” Sabrina said suddenly. “That’s the thing he does. He acts like, I dunno, I’m gonna… press a button and make you fall apart or something. He’s always making sure you’re okay and like, dude, I love him for it but I don’t… follow? Like did I do something that he’s worried about?”

Evan shrugged, finishing his drink. “I’m… No. _You_ didn’t. It’s me he’s worried about, you know? I worry him.”

“But why?”

“I…” Evan’s voice died. “Things got kind of shitty for a while, for me, and when Connor and I met again two years ago… I was in the middle of taking the bar, and you’d just gotten engaged so when it happened I guess he assumed it was about you...”

Shit. He hadn’t meant to say anything.

Shit.

“When what happened?” Sabrina asked, her eyes big.

“It’s not important,” Evan lied. “It’s nothing, really -”

“Bullshit,” Sabrina said because she could tell he was lying, and fuck he was losing his touch. He had become a bad liar somewhere in the last few years. It wasn’t something he was equipped to cope with at that moment. “When what happened, Evan?”

He couldn’t tell her because it was too unreal, too crazy.

Like she would legitimately try to have him put in a hospital, crazy.

He couldn’t tell her because it would ruin things between them, wreck this friendship they had worked hard at, wreck everything. If he told her she would hate him.

“Did something happen to you?” Sabrina pressed. “I know… You said that you were in bad shape for a while, and I… I know that, I knew that when we broke up things weren’t...but. What happened two years ago?”

Evan shook his head, his throat tight. He felt his eyes starting to water and he looked away quickly.  “It’s not important. It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does,” Sabrina pressed. “You matter and… It worries your boyfriend so… This matters. Whatever it is, I can take it.”

Evan shook his head again because she was wrong, she was wrong and it would hurt her too much if she knew the night she got engaged, Evan killed himself. The night she got engaged to Graham, to the man she would marry in sixth months, to the guy she loved, Evan died over twenty times. The night she got engaged, Connor had to talk him off of the roof of his building because Evan was so convinced that nothing would ever get better for him. Sabrina couldn’t know that. He refused to let her know that about him. “I don’t… I don’t think we should be talking about this,” Evan said, getting up. “This… I think I should go.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sabrina said, her own eyes had gone glassy, and her expression shifted. Evan knew that she knew she suspected she definitely knew. It was the expression she had worn when she found him as an L1, having been up for three days straight, his fingers a bloody mess, his eyes bloodshot and gently told him he needed to go to bed it was the look she gave him when they were fighting and he said “Why don’t you just fucking dump me if you can’t stand being around me then?” and she had shouted, “Because I am terrified you will hurt yourself!”

He knew that look and she knew his too because they knew each other too well to keep trying to lie. And Evan hated that because just this once, just this once he knew the lie was for her own good.

“You’re my people and you’re going to tell me what happened Evan.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Evan,” She said softly.

“You’ll… you might hate me.”

“I doubt it,” Sabrina said stubbornly.

Evan sucked in a deep breath. Ran a hand over his face. “Two years ago. When I was taking the bar, I… Things got really bad for a while, and I... It had nothing to do with you, I swear, nothing at all but. Two years ago I tried to kill myself.”

Sabrina’s face fell. Her eyes swam with tears. He knew this was coming and felt powerless, unable to comfort her about his own pain. “You…” She said quietly, softly. “The night I got engaged? Oh my god.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want… I didn’t want you to find out.”

“That night… Fuck. I am so sorry Evan I am -”

He shook his head, grabbing her hand. “It wasn’t that. I swear, it _wasn’t that._ It wasn’t you, God, I was so happy for you when I found out that you had someone who made you happy but I just. Things had been bad for a long time and I was under a lot of stress and… It wasn’t you getting engaged, please don’t think that. Please.”

“But you’re okay now?” She asked, her arms gripping his shoulders, eyes scanning his body like he might have been hiding broken ribs or crush injuries.

“I’m… Yeah I’ve been doing a lot better since then,” Evan said.

“And Connor knows?”

Evan swallowed hard. He nodded. “Connor… Connor saved my life,” Evan explained softly. “I ran into him at a liquor store right before and… he. He followed me home and. He.” He took a breath. “I had gone up to the roof of my building. I was… I planned to jump, but. Connor followed me home. I kind of… I was so sleep deprived, like, I hadn’t slept properly in days and days so I didn’t think he was really there, I sort of thought I was imagining him honestly. Because I had seen unreal stuff a few other times when I was that tired and… It’s not important. He… Connor, he followed me up to the roof of my building because he… I don’t know why, actually. I think he thought I seemed off. Not okay. Maybe I was being really obvious or something? I dunno. I really don’t know… And he just… he talked me down, convinced me to leave the roof...”

“He talked you down?” Sabrina said, eyes still too big and wide with fear, still spilling over with tears.

“He did, yeah.”

“And he… he thinks it’s because I got engaged,” Sabrina said. “Connor… Oh my god.” She wiped her face. “Ev, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Fuck, I had no idea...”

“It’s not your fault,” He said, insisted, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly. “Please believe me. It was not you or anything you did. I wanted and I still want you to be happy… What happened was about me, and I dropped the ball, I wasn’t taking care of myself. I let the stress of finishing law school and taking the bar build and build until I was barely even a person anymore. It wasn’t you. Okay? Sabrina, it wasn’t you.”

“You could have died,” She said, sobbed, pulling him to her in a hug. “Oh my god, Ev, fuck. You could have died.”

He had died. He had died and there was no way to tell her that. So he pet her hair and said, “I know. I’m sorry. I know. I’m so sorry.”

“Does your mom know?” Sabrina asked, pulling away.

“No,” Evan whispered. “At least. Not the details. I don’t want to hurt her… I didn’t want to hurt you.” He looked down at his hands, at his fingers which had been picking at his cuticles, red and ripped up. “I understand if this is too much, if you don’t want to talk to me anymore, I get it, and I’m so sorry for putting this on your plate, really, it’s a lot -”

“Fuck, Evan,” She said and she pulled him into another hug. “I am so glad you are here. I’m so glad Connor was there that night. I am… so fucking sorry. I didn’t know.” She squeezed him tighter. “I’m so sorry. I’m not going to stop talking to you, oh my god, I am so sorry I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” She said, and she hugged him tighter. “Are you okay? Now? Are you…?”

Evan nodded. “I have a good therapist and I take medication now and things… are a lot better than they were two years ago. It’s not always… awesome and I’ve fucked up some stuff trying to like. Cheat my way into being better, but I… things are better now.”  
“And you have Connor.”

“I do,” Evan said quietly. “I have Connor.”

“And he looks out for you,” Sabrina said. “Because he loves you.”  
“Yeah… he does.”

“Good,” Sabrina said. “Good.”

She hugged him a few more times. Apologized a lot more. He kept telling her not to, that none of what happened was her fault, but she didn’t let up apologizing. They both cried a few times, and Evan didn’t know how to make Sabrina feel better. How to take the shock and pain and blame away because he never wanted her to feel like this.

And she looked up and hit him in the shoulder, “Are you seriously telling me you passed the fucking bar the morning after you tried to kill yourself? Like… the next day? Like you took the second day of the bar after a straight up mental health crisis?”

Evan shrugged. Nodded.

“What the actual fuck Evan?” Sabrina hugged him again, crying more. “If you ever… You’re so fucking stupid, I love you, please don’t do that again.”

Evan ended up walking Sabrina home, walking slowly, both of them smoking cigarettes. She had a phase in college; his from law school had become a bad habit he wasn’t sure how to kick. She cried a few more times, and when they got to her door, she hugged him so tightly, Evan wasn’t sure he could breathe for a few minutes. “Thank you for telling me. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry that I didn’t know.”

“It is not your fault. And I’m sorry too.”

She hugged him again, kissed him on the cheek, and said good night.

When she was safely inside, Evan wiped his face a few times. He texted Connor that he was pretty tired and planned to crash at his own apartment that night. He didn’t want Connor to see… this. Whatever it was.

He walked home and went straight to his bedroom, remembering the first time he had seen the photo of Sabrina’s new ring and new fiance on his phone here in this apartment. Remembering how at the time, it felt a little like the universe was laughing at him, reminding him of what he could have if he were normal, better.

Evan realized that the things he had now were better than the normal he thought he was being taunted by two years ago. But it didn’t mean things didn’t get hard for him sometimes. Tonight was hard. He couldn’t deny it, how draining and horrible it had been. But it was still better than two years ago.

Evan texted Connor to say how much he loved him, then he put on his pajamas and went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

It’s nearly five on a Monday and Leslie’s just finished her shift, leaving Connor alone to finish the last three hours before closing. He’s not expecting there to be many customers between now and eight, if any - it’s bitterly cold and miserable outside and since it’s winter, it’s already dark. Most people are just going to want to go home, not head out to do their book shopping.

 

Not for the first time, Connor wishes he had enough space to put in an espresso machine. Enough space to put in some sofas and armchairs, to make The Little Book Nook the kind of place that you could come and spend a few hours on a wintery evening in, grab a cup of coffee and do some reading. A couple of tables so students could come and get some study done.

 

It’s wishful thinking, at the moment, that much he knows. A dream.

 

But so was owning the bookstore, just under two years ago.

 

Connor sets about doing a bit of tidying, even though there really isn’t much to tidy. Edgar rubs against his ankles, meowing a little, and Connor scoops him up into his arms where he happily climbs up onto his shoulder.

 

Edgar’s bigger than he was when Connor found him in October, but really not that much. He’d taken him to the vet recently to check up on him because he was worried he was still too little and the vet had assured Connor that Edgar was perfectly healthy, just small.

 

It’s a bit of a surprise to hear the bell over the door ring.

 

It’s a complete surprise to see Sabrina Patel walk through the door, in a bright yellow jacket, a cerulean blue hat and a vibrant green scarf. Her eyes widen when she sees him and she grins widely.

 

“Connor! Good to see you!”

 

“Hey,” says Connor, as politely as he can.

 

Internally he’s… a little freaked out, to be honest. He’s never spent any time with Sabrina without Evan and he has absolutely no idea why she’s here.

 

Well, he assumes she’s here to buy a book.

 

“So I have a list,” Sabrina says, pulling a piece of paper out of her bag, “of all the books I’m wanting to add to my bookshelf for teaching. And I figured I’d support a local business in the process, so… here I am!” She holds up another bag. “Also, I brought Thai food. I got you sweet potato curry. Evan said you like it.”

 

Connor has absolutely no idea what to say, but Sabrina strides confidently to the counter and puts down the Thai food. She then hands him the piece of paper and Connor’s eyes widen a little, because there have to be at least 30 books on the list.

 

This has to be hundreds of dollars worth of books, Jesus fuck. And from a brief glance, he has most of them in stock.

 

“Okay,” Connor says, nodding to himself. “Yeah, I can see we have most of these. Let me get them for you.”

 

“I’m in no hurry,” Sabrina says, pulling containers of Thai food out of the bag and hands the sweet potato curry and a plastic fork to Connor. “Let’s eat before this gets cold.” She opens a container of her own and starts digging into what looks like pad thai.

 

Edgar is looking at Connor’s curry with interest. Connor opens the box, picks out a piece of sweet potato and offers it to his cat, who happily chows down. Sabrina smiles at the sight. “Evan said you had a cat,” she says matter-of-factly. “Edgar Allan Paw, right? I saw pictures of him on Evan’s Facebook, he’s adorable. Graham loves the name.”

 

“He’s a good cat,” Connor says. He know he sounds super, super awkward, because he’s feeling super, super awkward. “Uh, thanks for the curry.”

 

“You are so welcome,” she says with a smile.

 

They stand there and eat their curry in silence for a while. Connor hasn’t ordered the sweet potato curry from the Thai place since he figured out how to make it himself, and he thinks that he actually prefers his homemade version.

 

“Evan says you make your own version of this curry,” Sabrina says conversationally. “I’d love the recipe. Evan thinks yours is better.”

 

“I didn’t realize you and Evan spent so much time talking about my cooking,” Connor says, and it comes out a little more confrontational than he means it to.

 

Sabrina looks at him, frowning a little. She puts her pad thai down on the counter. Connor’s about to say something, though he’s not sure what, when Sabrina speaks.

 

“I know you don’t like me.” Connor’s not going to argue, but he doesn’t want to outright say it, either, so he doesn’t say anything. “And I know that I’m the big bad ex, and I get that you think that I… that I hurt Evan. And you’re probably right. We weren’t… we weren’t good together as a couple, we both could have done things differently when we were together. We both made mistakes. But we’ve worked really hard to be friends again, and Evan is important to me. He’s my people. And you’re _his_ people. And neither of us are going anywhere, so we need to be okay with each other.”

 

“So the curry was a bribe,” Connor says, and he regrets it instantly, because he knows it makes him sound like a dick, but Sabrina actually laughs.

 

“Oh absolutely,” she says. “I am not above bribery.”

 

Connor smiles, despite himself. “At least you’re honest.”

 

“That’s my thing,” she replies instantly. “Honest to a fault. Sometimes it’d be kinder if I just lied, but… that’s not me.” She picks up her pad thai, still looking at Connor. “Look, I think you and Evan are good together. I’ve thought you were good together ever since we first had drinks together, a year and a half ago. I could see how much you cared about him and I was just… so fucking relieved that he had someone who cared that much. That he had someone. I… he spent too much time alone, too much time in his own head. I never wanted him to be alone.”

 

“You say that,” Connor says, trying to tamp down his annoyance, “but you let him leave.”

 

Sabrina laughs, but this laugh has no humor at all. “Do you honestly think I could have stopped him? You know him well enough to know that when his mind is made up, there’s no changing it.” She frowns. “And at the end we weren’t… weren’t good for each other as a couple, I wasn’t good for him. I didn’t know how to help him.”

 

“You could have tried.”

 

“I did try! I tried and I tried and I tried!” She looks like she might be close to tears and fuck, Connor’s an asshole. “And I didn’t stop caring about him. I _never_ stopped caring about him. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have fought as hard as I did so we could get to where we are now, so we could actually be friends, and I definitely wouldn’t be here bribing you with Thai food and letting you say shit like this to me.”

 

They stand there in uncomfortable silence for a long moment.

 

“I’m sorry,” Connor says quietly. “That was shitty of me. I’m sorry.” He takes a bite of his curry, which all of a sudden doesn’t taste as good, so he picks out another piece of sweet potato and feeds it to Edgar, who is looking at Sabrina with suspicion. “I just… when Evan and I met again a couple of years ago, he was… he was in bad shape. Really bad shape. And you got engaged and he-”

 

“My engagement wasn’t why he tried, Connor.”

 

Connor feels something cold go through him. “What?”

 

Sabrina sighs. Puts down her pad thai on the counter again. She seems to deflate right in front of his eyes, all the energy draining out of her. “Evan told me,” she says quietly. “About what happened, two years ago.”

 

Connor can feel his heart pounding inside his chest, far too fast, painfully fast. “What?” he repeats, because…

 

This doesn’t make sense. Evan can’t have told her what happened, can’t have told her that they’d died and died and died, he wouldn’t do that, he…

 

“He told me he… he tried to kill himself,” Sabrina says, and she just looks so horribly sad. “And you stopped him. You talked him down, you… you saved his life.” Something in her expression shifts and her eyes well with tears. “You _saved his life_. I can’t tell you how fucking grateful I am that you were there, Connor, I…” She blinks a few times, like she’s trying to blink back her tears, but all the blinking does is cause the tears to roll down her cheeks.

 

Connor fishes a napkin out of the takeout bag and hands it to her without saying anything.

 

She wipes her eyes and doesn’t look at him. He gives her a few moments to compose herself. His heart is still pounding like crazy, but it’s starting to calm down a little.

 

Evan didn’t tell her about dying over and over again. But he did tell her that he tried to…

 

He can feel a physical pain in his chest at the thought of Evan on that roof, of his dead eyes and shaking hands and hopelessness, radiating from every pore.

 

It takes a moment for Connor to realize his vision is getting blurry as well. He hadn’t realized he’d teared up until he notices his face is wet.

 

He takes another napkin out of the takeout bag and wipes his face, then looks at Sabrina.

 

Really looks at her, for what’s probably the first time.

 

He remembers a little girl with thick brown hair in pigtails and a gap between her teeth and bruises on her knees, handing him a copy of _Where The Wild Things Are_ and saying it was the best book ever. He remembers her sitting next to him and reading the book out loud with him, stumbling over the occasional word, smiling at him when he said it perfectly and telling him how cool it was he knew so many words.

 

Connor’s spent the last two years hating her, resenting her for hurting Evan, and this is the first time he’s remembering their six-year-old selves.

 

They grew up together. And while they were never friends, they don’t have to be enemies.

 

“I’m fucking grateful I was there, too,” he says quietly. “Guess we do have something in common.”

 

“Yeah,” Sabrina says, laughing a little. She looks to the counter to go pick up her pad thai, only to find that Edgar has his little head buried in the takeout box. “Oh my god.”

 

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

 

“Is it safe for cats to eat noodles?” Sabrina asks.

 

“I don’t know,” Connor says, considering. “Fuck.” He picks up the cat and looks him in the eye. “Edgar. Come on, dude.”

 

Sabrina bursts into loud giggles as Connor pulls out his phone to check whether pad thai is potentially going to hurt his cat. He goes through a couple of pages as Sabrina laughs and pulls out her own phone. “Okay,” Sabrina says after a moment. “So I don’t think what he ate is going to hurt him, but he probably shouldn’t have the rest.” She looks at the container, then offers it to Connor with a smirk. “Feel like noodles?”

 

Connor smirks back. “Is it bad that I’m considering it because Evan would be disappointed if I wasted food?”

 

They both crack up laughing for a long while. After a moment, Edgar meows indignantly and Connor puts him down on the ground, where he takes off like a rocket across the room.

 

“I don’t expect that we’ll be best friends,” Sabrina says once she stops laughing. “But we can both at least agree that we love Evan.”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor. Because that’s a fact he can’t deny.

 

Sabrina grins wickedly. “ _And_ we can both say with absolute certainty that he’s _phenomenal_ in the sack.”

 

“Oh my god,” Connor groans as Sabrina starts laughing again, but he’s laughing as well. “We are not discussing this, oh my god.”

 

“Seriously, though,” Sabrina continues, still grinning. “Honestly, seventeen year old me did _not_ see that coming. Who’d have thought that Evan Hansen would have been a sex god under that polo shirt and those khakis?”

 

“You’re not wrong,” Connor admits, and Sabrina lets out a whoop of victory, and then they’re both laughing again.

 

“Okay, okay,” says Sabrina after they manage to calm themselves down. “Since my dinner has been licked by a cat, I’m going to get a start on finding these books.”

 

“Let me show you where they’ll be,” Connor says, leading Sabrina to the appropriate part of the store. He finishes his curry as Sabrina goes through the shelves, pulling out book after book after book and checking them off her list, putting them in a pile. He puts the empty curry container on the counter, then comes back to Sabrina and they spend the next hour putting together everything on Sabrina’s list.

 

Once they have everything, Connor rings the entire order up for her and finds that the total is close to $400. He knows he’s staring at the total but Sabrina doesn’t bat an eyelid, just hands him a credit card with a smile.

 

“Wait, you’re a teacher,” Connor says after a moment. “I should give you a discount.”

 

“No you shouldn’t,” Sabrina says cheerfully. “You don’t like me, remember?”

 

“Fine. But I’m giving you a free tote bag.”

 

Sabrina rolls her eyes. “I’ll allow it.”

 

The books barely fit in the tote bag but Sabrina absolutely refuses to let him give her another bag. She also takes the pad thai and the empty sweet potato curry container with her, along with the plastic forks, telling him that she’ll destroy the evidence of their lack of recycling so he doesn’t get in trouble with Evan.

 

“Hey,” says Connor as she’s readjusting her hat. “If you ever need any particular books for school, let me know, okay? I have a good supplier, I can order in anything you need. Or if you, like… I don’t know, have any cool literacy program ideas that the store could help with? I could donate some book vouchers for prize giving at the end of the school year.”

 

“Yeah?” Sabrina replies, smiling brilliantly.

 

Connor shrugs, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I mean, anything to encourage kids to read. And it’d be good for business.” He smiles. “My newest staff member is really into children’s literature. They do the Sunday shift, so if you wanted to chat with them I’m sure they’d be keen.”

 

“That sounds great,” Sabrina says. She smiles, then gives him a wave, and heads off into the cold of the night, adjusting her green scarf around her neck as she goes.

 

Connor spends the rest of his shift restocking the children’s section from the store room, because Sabrina has made one hell of a dent. He’s still restocking when Evan shows up at five minutes to eight, cheeks pink from the cold. Evan heads right towards him and he stands up and gives him a kiss in greeting.

 

Evan looks at the shelves, some of which are still empty. “Whoa,” he says. “Looks like you’ve had some good sales today.”

 

“You have no idea,” Connor says with a laugh. “Your ex-girlfriend came in and bought four hundred dollars’ worth of children’s books.”

 

Evan’s eyes widen. “She did what?”

 

“It was definitely bribery,” Connor continues with a smirk. “She admitted that herself.”

 

Evan looks a little sheepish. “Sabrina kind of needs to be liked. I think it’s been driving her a little crazy that you’re… not exactly a fan.”

 

“Four hundred dollars worth of children’s books, Evan,” Connor says, keeping his tone light. “I’m starting to come around.” Evan is still kind of staring at him, a little bemused, and Connor laughs and kisses Evan again. “She cares about you a lot. She really does. And that’s something I can get behind.” Evan smiles, and Connor takes his hand gently. “She told me you told her what happened two years ago.”

 

Evan’s smile drops. “Connor-”

 

“I’m glad you felt you could trust her with that,” Connor says gently. “I know it’s not easy for you to talk about. I think that you… it’s a big deal for you, being able to be vulnerable like that with someone you care about.”

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, nodding. “Yeah, it’s… I didn’t mean to tell her, but… I’m glad she knows? Kind of?” He sighs. “I didn’t mean to tell her, and part of me hates that I hurt her, because I know that it… it hurts her, but at the same time… she’s someone I trust. Someone I really care about.” He squeezes Connor’s hand. “You know it wasn’t her fault, right? Her getting engaged wasn’t why I jumped. It wasn’t. I really, really need you to know that.”

 

“I do know that,” Connor says, and it’s only as the words leave his mouth that he realizes he finally believes them.

* * *

 

He probably hasn’t chosen the best time to talk to Evan, considering they’re getting close to Connor’s birthday and the two year anniversary of the weirdest fucking thing to happen to either of them, but Connor still feels like he needs to have this conversation, to tell Evan everything.

 

He’s spent time processing things with Praveed, getting his head around the encounter with his father that sent him spinning, and while he’ll never be completely okay with what happened, he’s at least reached a stage where he’s dealt with it. Where he can let it go, stop letting it have power over him.

 

Evan’s going to hate it, going to be angry and upset on his behalf, and Connor hates that, but he still feels like he needs to be honest. Needs Evan to understand what left him so vulnerable to everything falling apart last summer.

 

Connor needs Evan to understand that he’s not going to let that happen to him again.

 

He makes chicken and dumplings for dinner and buys a nice but not too fancy bottle of whisky and has another crack at Andi’s apple pie recipe for dessert. When Evan arrives, Edgar rushes to greet him, meowing and rubbing his little face against Evan’s ankle, and Evan leans down to scratch behind his ears.

 

“It smells amazing in here,” Evan says, smiling at Connor.

 

“Thanks,” says Connor, feeling weirdly nervous. Evan seems to sense this and frowns a little, walking straight up to him and kissing him.

 

“What’s up?” Evan asks, his voice deceptively light, and Connor kisses him again. “Is everything okay?”

 

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says, and he feels Evan tense up. “It’s not about you or us or anything like that, I promise, it’s just… something I feel like I need to talk to you about, okay?”

 

Evan gives him this searching look. “Okay,” he says after a moment. “Do you want to just talk now or shall we talk over dinner?”

 

“Over dinner,” Connor says immediately, because he’ll feel a little less weird about it if there’s something to distract them. “Which is ready, by the way.”

 

Soon they’re sitting at the kitchen table, each with a plate of food. Connor slices into a dumpling to find it’s perfectly cooked, to his satisfaction, and has a bite to find it’s possibly a little under seasoned but is still pretty good. Evan takes a bite of his and his eyes widen and he nods in approval.

 

“This is really good,” Evan says, gesturing to his plate. “Seriously, I have no idea how you do this. I can barely scramble an egg.”

 

“And we all know how you feel about scrambled eggs,” Connor quips, and Evan grins.

 

Then Evan’s expression turns serious. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

 

Connor takes a deep breath. Looks at his plate for a moment, then looks at Connor. “I wanted to talk to you about the conversation with my dad in May,” he says, trying to keep his tone even. “Because I know you know he said _something_ , and I feel like you’re probably going a little crazy, imagining what the hell it is he might have said that shook me so much, that made me… made things get bad for me.”

 

Evan nods. He’s frowning, but there’s something soft and open in his face. “You’re not wrong,” he admits. “But you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

 

“I’m ready,” Connor assures him. “Took me a while but I’ve talked to Praveed about it, and we’ve gone through it a lot, and I’m kind of… I’ve processed it, I guess. I needed to process it before I told you.” He takes another breath. “Okay. So I’m not going to go into the gory details, but the gist of it was… not great. He did the same old song and dance about how I should have gone to business school, how I didn’t know what I was doing, how I was going to go bankrupt before I turned 30, how I didn’t have the experience I needed to run a business, how I was wasting my time and my potential and that most new businesses fail in the first two years.”  Evan’s frown deepens and he looks extremely pissed off. Connor has to brace himself to continue. “But… he said some other things I wasn’t expecting.”

 

Evan’s eyes widen a little. “Like that wasn’t bad enough,” he mutters. “What else did he say, Connor?”

 

Connor has to take a moment. He closes his eyes, tries to center himself.

 

It still feels awful to admit this.

 

“He told me that most people don’t get second chances,” Connor says slowly. “And that I should be more careful about my decisions, because if I… if the bookstore didn’t work out, I might not cope. I might… I might end up bleeding out in a bathtub again.”

 

Evan’s expression turns thunderous. “He said that?” he says, his voice shaking with anger. “He actually said that to you?”

 

“Yeah,” Connor admits, feeling his cheeks go pink with shame but trying to push through the feeling, because he’s done letting his dad’s words have an impact. “He said some other stuff too. Implied I moved to New York for easier access to drugs, told me I was… actively self-destructing, that the bookstore was a stupid, unnecessary risk. Basically said I was… a waste. That I’d wasted all my advantages, that I could have done so much more if I’d put my mind to it.” He winces. “It was… kind of brutal. The whole thing. I wasn’t expecting it to be a fun conversation but I wasn’t prepared for it to get so nasty. And then Garrett quit like two days later and I jumped right into having to cover shifts and train someone new and… I hadn’t processed it, I didn’t have the time to deal with it, and because of that, he kind of got in my head. And everything started to unravel.”

 

Evan’s reached out and grabbed Connor’s hand and is holding it tight tight tight. “I’m so sorry,” Evan says, and his voice is heavy with anger and pain. “Fuck, that’s… that is complete fucking bullshit, you do not deserve that. You don’t deserve any of that, he’s full of shit, I can’t believe he fucking said that to you.”

 

“I’ve talked to Praveed about it a lot over the last month,” Connor explains quietly. “And I don’t think I’ll ever… forget, exactly? I don’t think it’s ever going to just stop hurting magically. But I’m done letting him put me in a situation where he says shit like that to me, I’m done letting him have that kind of hold on me. So I won’t be meeting him for drinks one on one ever again and I’m… I know it’s unrealistic to say that I’m just not going to let his words hurt me again, because that’s not how it works, but I won’t… I’ll be prepared next time. I won’t let it get as bad as it did.”

 

“Fuck,” Evan says quietly. “Fucking hell, fuck.” He looks at Connor and takes in a ragged breath. “I didn’t… I didn’t realize, I didn’t know. I knew he’d said something but… I hate that you’ve carried this alone for months, Connor, I hate it.”

 

“I know,” Connor says quietly. “I should have talked to Praveed about it earlier. But I got busy because of Garrett quitting with no notice and I… I started putting off appointments. When you showed up at the store in September to talk to me, I hadn’t seen Praveed since April, I’d been off my meds completely for two weeks but had been forgetting to take them regularly for a few months, I… I let what my dad said get in my head and I threw myself into the store to prove him wrong and I stopped doing the mental health work I needed to do, I didn’t prioritize it. I’m not going to let that happen again. I’m not… I’m not saying that I’ll never be back where I was this summer again, because neither of us can promise we’ll never have mental health crises, but I won’t let my meds and therapy slip that badly again if I can help it. I won’t… looking back I can see where it went wrong, I can pinpoint all of it, and that means I know what to avoid in the future. That means I can keep myself healthy and happy.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Evan says again, squeezing Connor’s hand.

 

“I know I scared you last summer,” Connor confesses with a frown. “I’m so sorry. I know it was… hard for you to see that, and hard for you to suddenly be thrown into having to look out for me when it was always me looking out for you, you know? I just want you to know that I’m trying to learn from that. I want to learn from what happened and recognize what caused it, to keep myself safe.”

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, still frowning. He looks at his plate and lets out a sigh of frustration. “ _Fuck_ , Connor. Fuck.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I just can’t believe he said that.”

 

“I know. It sucks.”

 

“You know he’s full of shit, right?” Evan says, looking at Connor, his expression deadly serious. “You know that he’s completely full of shit, that his opinions are less than worthless.”

 

“I’m not letting him get in my head again,” Connor vows. “I know he’s full of shit.” He sighs. “I feel like somewhere in there, he does care about me, it’s just…”

 

“Incredibly fucked up,” Evan says, voice still shaking with anger. “That’s… _fuck_.”

 

“We should eat,” Connor says gently. “Before it gets cold.”

 

Evan nods. Closes his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh. Squeezes Connor’s hand. “I love you,” he says fiercely. “I love you so fucking much.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

“I hate this,” Evan continues, his voice frank, “but I’m glad you felt like you could tell me.”

 

“I don’t want to keep secrets from you,” Connor says quietly. “I’m sorry it’s such bullshit, I know it’s not-”

 

“Don’t apologize for your dad being a piece of shit,” Evan interrupts. “It’s not your fault.” He squeezes Connor’s hand again. “Fuck. The next time I see in him in court I’m going to rip him to fucking shreds.”

 

Connor can’t help but smile at that. “Damn right you are.”

 

* * *

Even though the food Connor made for dinner was actually really great, Evan could barely force down a few more bites. He was so angry he was physically shaking, but he didn’t want Connor to see it because it was not Connor’s job to take on the burden of Evan’s anger.

Fuck.

Fuck Larry Murphy. Damn that motherfucker.

Fuck.

Evan excused himself to the bathroom, kissing the top of Connor’s head and just stood there on the other side of the door for a moment. Something that embarrassed the hell out of him was that when he got this angry, he cried. He’d done it since he was small. He’d cried once or twice during recesses when he had faced Larry in court last year, tucked away in the men’s room, silent and seriously pissed off. Evan cried when he got this angry, like his body went into panic mode and the only thing it could think to do to resolve the intensity of emotion was to cry.

It embarrassed the hell out of him. In high school, when Jared told Evan he was just “too weird” to go to prom with after all, Evan’s eyes had flooded moments after he pushed past Jared to go hide out in the computer lab until the school day ended, his head down, shoulders up, praying nobody noticed praying the only other kid in the computer lab with his big black coat and army boots wouldn’t look up or say something because nobody would believe that he wasn’t sad, exactly, he was fucking pissed off because Jared was an asshole and Evan couldn’t believe he had let himself think otherwise. Evan had also cried the only time he had ever thrown a punch in his entire life.  Some fucking frat bro back in Ohio had aggressively been hitting on Sabrina all night, never backing off despite he repeatedly saying she wasn’t interested and Evan physically placing himself between her and this douche. When she turned him down for the third time, saying, really, he was being an idiot and she would never go out with him, the frat guy called her a “fat cunt.” Sabrina had looked shocked and insulted and Evan had lost it, totally lost it, and clocked him right in the jaw, causing the dude to stumble back as Evan shouted at him to “stay the fuck away from my girlfriend you limp-dicked fuckhead.” Sabrina had rushed Evan outside before the bouncer could throw them out, muttering that he didn’t have to do that, she could handle it and then she promptly shut up because she realized that Evan was crying.

“What the fuck? Are you alright?” Sabrina had asked, her voice hushed as she wiped a stray tear he had missed from his cheek.

“He… fuck that guy, he was awful to you, fuck, fuck, are you alright? I’m sorry, that was stupid of me, I’m so sorry -”

And she didn’t realize he was that _angry_ , that he wasn’t some sensitive loser who cried when people were mean. His hand hurt and he was so pissed he half wanted to go and punch the guy again because who the fuck said shit like that?

Evan did not like this fact about himself. He did not like how anger often led to tears. Toxic masculinity bullshit or whatever, but he preferred not to show people this side of him. And even though Evan knew that Connor wouldn’t judge him, that Connor might even understand this tendency, he didn’t need Connor trying to fix this for him either. He did not want Connor to feel like he needed to handle this for Evan or take care of it for him. It wasn’t Connor’s job to process this emotion with him. Evan just needed a minute to freak out and cry angry tears and imagine punching Larry Murphy in the face over and over and over and just… take a moment to hate that horrible, horrible man.

Fuck.

He did not understand how Larry could look at Connor, look at all of the things he had accomplished, all of the stuff he had overcome, how he could look at his beautiful, amazing son and say the things he had said to Connor. He just… he couldn’t.

Evan wiped his face.

Pulled out his phone to ask Marcia if she could pencil him in for later in the week. She replied back almost immediately saying she could squeeze him in that Monday if he wanted. Evan agreed. Stood for a moment. Then, he washed his face.

He walked out of the bathroom and found Connor putting the rest of Evan’s dinner into a Tupperware dish in the kitchen, frowning a bit. “You didn’t eat much… Was it not good?”

“Oh god, no, it was really good. Really.”

Connor nodded. “Are you alright?”

Evan nodded back, then pulled Connor into a tight hug. “I am… I’m so fucking sorry about what your dad said to you. I just needed a minute to… I’m really sorry about what he said, Connor. You did not deserve that. I’m so sorry.” He kissed Connor’s cheek. “Thank you for telling me but… _Fuck_ I am so sorry.”

Connor hugged him back, resting his head against Evan’s shoulder. “You don’t have to keep saying it.”

“I know,” Evan said. “But I mean it. I’m so sorry. I hate that he said that to you. You deserve so much better.” He kissed the top of Connor’s head. “You deserve everything, Connor.”

Evan stayed over that night. Not because he thought Connor might not be safe if he was alone after he told Evan about his asshole father… but because Evan needed to be there. He just had to stay, had to protectively curl himself around Connor, had to reassure himself that Connor knew he was loved and adored and cared for and that getting those things from Evan was not conditional in any of the ways it seemed to be for Larry.

Edgar slept at the foot of the bed, a sentry watching over Connor, and Evan really appreciated how loyal that little kitten had turned out to be.


	27. February, Part II (Two Years After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I made a huge deal out of Valentine’s Day and you’re _Jewish.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some Valentine's Day fluff and READ THE TAGS.

Connor’s never really paid attention to Valentine’s Day. Not really. Sure, he knows that it exists and sure, he knows that people either love it or hate it, but it’s never been something he’s had to think about because he’s never been in a situation where it was remotely relevant before. 

 

But this year, it’s completely relevant, because somehow he has a boyfriend who he’s madly in love with and even if Valentine’s Day is a commercialised shit-show, he still wants to do it right, especially since… 

 

Well, he’s been thinking a lot about his relationship with Evan over the past few months and has come to the realization that while he’s so, so, so fucking happy with him and he’s so, so, so fucking in love with him, Connor can’t actually see that much of a difference in their relationship before they admitted their feelings and how it’s been since. 

 

Obviously it’s different, in that they’re not shy about telling each other how they feel. Connor doesn’t have to hold himself back, doesn’t have to worry about crossing a line, about being weird because they’re just friends and Connor doesn’t really get where the line is. The sex is better - not that it was bad before by any stretch of the imagination, but there’s nothing fucking sexier than being able to tell Evan that he loves him in the middle of sex, and to hear the words spill out of Evan’s mouth like he just can’t hold them back. 

 

But in terms of what they do together? It’s just… not that different. They spend a lot of their free time together, but they did that before they were dating as well. They go out for meals and go see movies, which they also did before they were dating. When Evan was sick in January, Connor looked after him, but he’d have done that when they were just friends as well, although it might have been a little harder to convince Evan to let him. And sure, Connor does a lot of cooking for Evan now, but that’s only because apparently he cooks now. He’d have done that when they were just friends as well, he’s sure of it. 

 

So what does that mean? Does that mean that he’s missed something, something vital to being Someone’s Boyfriend and Evan’s just too nice to tell him? 

 

Connor has no idea. 

 

Valentine’s Day could be a chance to try to make sure he’s getting the boyfriend thing right. He’s been bookmarking recipes for a while now and he thinks he’s got a game plan figured out - dinner out on Friday night, a romantic home-cooked dinner on Saturday night and breakfast in bed the next morning. Connor’s not-so-secretly hoping for sex in between there somewhere and doesn’t think he’s going to have to twist Evan’s arm too much, but he doesn’t want to just expect it or demand it, he…

 

He wants Evan to know he loves him and respects him and cares about him and can’t imagine his life without him, that’s what’s important. He  _ hopes _ Evan knows, hopes that he’s been clear and forthcoming with his feelings ever since they first admitted them in September, but in case Evan doesn’t realize just how fucking much Connor loves him, he’s going to make sure he knows. Make sure there’s no doubt in his mind at all.

 

Even if Evan’s just being polite and has completely failed to mention that Connor’s doing this whole boyfriend thing all wrong. 

 

Oh god, what if he’s doing it all wrong? 

 

The feeling that he’s somehow missed something vital in the whole ‘being a good boyfriend’ thing sticks with him enough that it kind of bursts out at lunch with Zoe in the week leading up to Valentine’s Day. One moment he’s sitting there eating a deli sandwich with his sister, the next he’s asking her what makes a good boyfriend. 

 

“Or girlfriend. Or non-binary-friend,” he continues, trying to cover his tracks at least a little. “I’m just… what do you think makes that whole thing a… how do you get good at it? Do you practice? Is it a practice thing?”

 

Zoe looks at him for a moment, expression more than a little confused, then something in her face shifts. “This is your first Valentine’s Day in a relationship,” she says, like she’s figured something out. “You’re freaking out.”

 

“I’m not freaking out.”

 

Zoe raises an eyebrow. “Connor. You’re freaking out.”

 

He sighs. “Okay, yeah, I’m freaking out. I just… I think I’m missing something?”

 

Zoe blinks. “Missing what?”

 

Connor tries to explain. “Before we started dating officially or whatever, Evan and I hung out all the time, and we had sex all the time, and we went out for dinner and to movies and weird theatre shows and shit, and now that we’re a couple… it doesn’t feel like a lot has changed.” Zoe looks at Connor like she thinks he’s a special kind of stupid, and he rushes to continue. “I mean, obviously it’s different, because we… we’re in love, and I tell him I love him all the time and he tells me, but in terms of, like, stuff, it’s not… it’s not different. And it makes me think that I’m missing something, and I don’t want Evan to have, like… a subpar boyfriend experience.”

 

“Do you think Evan’s unhappy?” Zoe asks. 

 

“I don’t think so,” Connor replies honestly. “I… I like to think I’d  _ know _ if he was unhappy. I just… want him to have everything. He  _ deserves _ everything.”

 

Something in Zoe’s expression softens considerably. “I think the reason why you feel like things aren’t that different is that… they’re not,” she says with a smile. “You two have pretty much been dating for, like, two years now.”

 

“Yeah, but-”

 

“You and Evan are there for each other,” Zoe says firmly. “You care about each other, you look after each other, you support each other. You listen to each other and you’re clearly really, completely, disgustingly in love. You’re not missing anything, Connor. At least not from where I’m standing.” She picks up her sandwich. “If you’re really worried that there’s something missing, talk to Evan about it, sure. But I feel like you’re just getting in your head.”

 

Connor thinks for a moment. Considers this. “You’re probably right.”

 

Zoe takes a bite of her sandwich, then swallows and looks at Connor with a smile. “I usually am.”

 

* * *

 

Evan didn’t exactly… do Valentine’s Day.

His only other actually Serious Relationship before Connor was with Sabrina and they just… hadn’t done Valentine’s Day. When he and Sabrina were together they mostly just ignored it. He was Jewish, and Sabrina was Muslim, and both of them reasoned that technically speaking, it was a Christian holiday. During college they were both pretty loud about their religious beliefs and sort of saw ignoring Valentine’s Day as a refusal to assimilate to the entire Christian American Commercialized Romance bullshit. Once they lived together his first year of law school, Sabrina and Evan debated if, as a couple, they ought to do something to mark the day and instead it turned into a long discussion about the Israel-Palestine conflict. Much like said conflict, they did not find an easy or workable solution. 

So Evan didn’t really have a lot of experience with Valentine’s Day.

Like, sure he had made the shoebox thing back in grade school where everyone handed out little cards with their favorite cartoons on them and the rich kids attached like lollipops or whatever. Evan was pretty sure Connor’s class Valentines usually had chocolates attached. But once he got too old for that shit, Evan and his mom basically decided together that as he had no friends there really wasn’t much of a point in giving them out. For the most part, Evan had usually just ignored it since middle school when it was a big huge hairy deal because they weren’t required to hand out class Valentines so if you got one it was a Thing. 

So. 

The thing was… Connor was Catholic… ish. Catholic enough that he probably wouldn’t outright reject the concept of Valentine’s Day, Catholic enough to accept it as a thing people in relationships just did. So Evan realized he should probably  _ do _ something come February fourteenth. If nothing else, this was the first Valentine’s Day that Connor was in a relationship and paying attention to it might be appreciated. 

And like Christmas, Evan really didn’t mind so much doing goyish stuff if it was for Connor. 

Evan’s first move was to pay a visit to Andre at the liquor store closest to his place and see if he could put in a request for Connor’s pretentious asshole whisky. Andre seemed more than happy to accommodate the request. Especially when he realized Evan was hoping to pick it up before Valentine’s Day. 

“Nice boyfriend.”

“I try,” Evan said bashfully. “I don’t… really do Valentine’s Day? Or. Well. I haven’t really before. But I want to do something nice for Connor. I just… I really love him.” Evan felt himself flushing because really, he had never ever been the type of person who just randomly told people how much he loved someone. He usually kept that very close to the vest, guarded it like it was a secret. But with Connor Evan just didn’t care who knew. 

Andre gave Evan this huge fucking grin. “Yeah?”   


“Yeah,” Evan said, smiling back. 

Pretentious asshole whisky purchased, Evan set about assembling the other thing he had planned out for Connor. It wasn’t much or big or anything like that...he just wanted Connor to know how gone he was for him. So he put together a little memory book of stuff he had held onto since they had known each other. A ticket stub from the movie they saw on Christmas when Connor was stuck in the city alone; fortunes from cookies they had gotten with Chinese food, a page from the Time-ku program, a receipt for bomb pops last June, their boarding passes from their trip home together last November, the label from a bottle of Chivas, a business card from Pete’s Diner (aka the diner where they didn’t die), the takeout menu from the Thai place they frequented, a cocktail napkin from the disastrous drinks with Sabrina and Graham two Octobers ago, the photo of them from Thanksgiving with Edgar that his mom had taken, a ticket stub for  _ But I’m a Cheerleader  _ from their first date…

A photo of the pair of them from Connor’s Harry Potter birthday party as kids that Zoe had sent him ages ago. A random photo of Evan from senior year, Connor’s name scrawled across his cast. A class Valentine that Evan had apparently held onto since the second grade that his mother had unearthed while cleaning out the attic and immediately mailed to him because she thought it was the cutest thing in the world. 

Evan had held onto all of this stuff. Partly because he was a sentimental fuck who couldn’t stand the idea of throwing them away. Partly because he hated to throw things out when they could be reused in some way. 

So he assembled them all in a little memory book, with small detailed notes about how much Evan loved Connor, loved doing X thing with him, how much he meant to him. 

Because really, Evan just loved him so much. So very much. And sure, he didn’t really do Valentine’s Day… Mostly he was hoping that maybe they’d just have sex or dinner or maybe both… but he wanted to do this for Connor, do something Connor might remember, might hold onto when things weren’t always great. A tangible, real thing he could hold and see that Evan loved him.  

 

* * *

 

By the time the weekend of Valentine’s Day arrives, Connor is pretty sure he’s got it all sorted out. He’s got a plan, and that plan involves romancing the  _ fuck _ out of his amazing, incredible boyfriend. 

 

He’s never been so grateful for having a day off on Friday, because he’s got things to prepare. Edgar follows him around the kitchen as he prepares as much of the weekend’s meals as he can in advance, because he wants to spend as much time actually with Evan as he can. 

 

“What do you think?” Connor asks Edgar as he takes a batch of lemon cookies out of the oven. “Do you think Evan will like it?”

 

“Mrow,” says Edgar, and goes over to his food bowl and chows down. 

 

Connor decides to take that as a yes. 

 

Once the cookies have cooled down, he puts some of them in a container then bundles up in his jacket and scarf to head to Evan’s office to drop them off, along with part one of Evan’s Valentine’s Day gift. Edgar meows in indignation as Connor goes to leave and Connor can’t help laughing as his cat looks up with him with big kitty eyes. 

 

“I know you’d love to go visit Evan at work,” Connor says very seriously to Edgar Allan Paw, “but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t appreciate it nearly as much as you would.” Edgar meows again. “Don’t be like that, dude. He loves you. He just loves you more in this apartment.” 

 

When Connor arrives at Evan’s office building armed with a container of lemon cookies and a tiny potted succulent, the lady at reception smiles and ushers him in. As he’s making his way to Evan’s office, he finds himself face to face with Asher, who grins widely when he sees him. 

 

“Hey man,” he says, slapping him on the shoulder in that weird bro-y way, “you here to see Evan? He’s just finished a meeting so he should be in his office.”

 

“Yeah,” Connor replies, because it’s fairly obvious that’s why he’s here. “I, uh, wanted to drop off some things.”

 

Asher looks at the succulent and smiles even wider. “Guess Evan’s cactus is getting a friend, huh.”

 

“He likes plants,” Connor says, feeling awkward all of a sudden because what if this is actually a super lame gift and even though it’s only part of the gift and Connor wanted to drop it off while Evan was still at work so Evan wouldn’t have to take it anywhere, what if Evan didn’t like the cactus and was just too polite to say anything. 

 

“He does,” Asher agrees, still with that grin. “You two are so stinking cute, oh my god.” He slaps Connor on the shoulder again. “I won’t keep you. Good to see you, man. You and Evan should come out for a drink with Charles and I sometime.”

 

“Sure,” Connor says, and smiles at Asher distractedly then heads on down to Evan’s office. 

 

Evan’s office door is open slightly and Connor can see him typing at his computer, frowning a little. There’s this little crinkle between his eyebrows that Connor really wants to kiss. 

 

He knocks on the door gently. “Hi.”

 

Evan looks up at him and his face bursts into this huge smile. “Hey you,” he says warmly. “I didn’t expect to see you until tonight.”

 

“I just wanted to drop some things off,” Connor says, trying to sound more confident than he feels, and puts the succulent on Evan’s desk and the container full of lemon cookies next to it. “I figured you could use a sugar kick for the afternoon - I know Fridays can be a lot. And… well, your cactus might get lonely on the weekends, so…”

 

Evan’s smile just gets wider and Connor feels something inside him untwist a little. Evan stands up, gets out from behind his desk and pulls Connor into a soft kiss. “Thank you. This is… this is so sweet, I love you so much, thank you.” 

 

“So about tonight,” Connor begins, relaxing more now that Evan’s got his arms around him. “I figured you could maybe spend the weekend at mine? But I wanted to take you out. So when you’ve finished work, if you wanted to drop stuff off at my place and then we’ll go?”

 

Evan nods. Smiles again. “I’ve got my backpack with me,” he says, gesturing to the corner of the room. “I’d kind of figured I’d spend the weekend anyway.” He tilts his head a little, as if thinking. “When you say you’re taking me out, what’s the dress code like?”

 

“Whatever you want,” Connor says honestly. He looks Evan up and down and notes that he’s wearing one of Connor’s favorite suits. It’s dark grey and fits him so well it should be fucking illegal. “You look really, really great in this.” A thought occurs to him. “I could take your bag back to my place now? The place I’m taking you is near here, anyway, I could come back and pick you up from work. We have a reservation at seven thirty.” 

 

Evan nods. “That would be great, actually,” he says, sounding a little relieved. “If you come to get me just after seven, that gives me time to get as much as I can done so I can give you my undivided attention this weekend.” 

 

Connor grins and pulls Evan a little closer to him. “Undivided attention, huh? I like the sound of that.” Evan laughs and Connor just has to kiss him. 

 

A couple of times. 

 

When they break apart, Evan looks apologetic. “I’ve really got to get back to work. But I’m looking forward to tonight.” 

 

“Me too,” Connor says with a grin. He kisses Evan again, then picks up his backpack and heads to the door. A thought occurs to him. He turns back to Evan. “Oh, by the way - there’s a card on the succulent.” Evan immediately goes to the succulent and finds the card and Connor feels his cheeks turn red. “Read it when I’m gone, okay?”

 

Evan smiles, that amazing smile that could rival the sun. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Evan immediately opened the card. Connor wasn’t even at the elevator yet, but he had to know what it was that Connor had written (and what he had written that made him not want Evan to open it in front of him, made his cheeks go deliciously rosy). 

He stared at it for a moment, not really reading, just admiring the card (printed on recycled paper) and Connor’s handwriting, smiling dopily at himself. He just. Loved Connor so much.

Fuck.

_ Focus, Hansen,  _ Evan thought to himself, still smiling.

He pulled the card open. 

 

_ Evan, _

_ I don’t know much about plants, but they tell me that succulents are pretty much indestructible and that seemed appropriate for us, in so many ways. I love you. I love how hard-working you are, how kind you are. I love your smile and your laugh and your freckles and your eyes and… I’m keeping this card PG because you’re at work but will happily give you the non-PG rated list of things I love about you later tonight. I just love you, so so so much, and I’m incredibly grateful you’re in my life.  _

_ Happy Valentine’s Day.  _

_ All my love, _

_ Connor _

 

Evan felt his face heat up and he was smiling so hard his face hurt. 

Fuck. 

Fucking hell, Connor was so fucking perfect. He was just the absolute best gift and there were those amazing lemon cookies and this card and a succulent that Evan would probably not kill and  _ fuck  _ he just loved Connor so much. 

Evan immediately texted him  _ “I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.” _

He read the card again. And again. Then once more. Beaming.

Then he placed the small little succulent beside his cactus and smiled to himself. God, he loved Connor so much. He was so fucking sweet. He was seriously just… killing it at this whole boyfriend thing. Knocking it out of the park. Absolutely excelling, full marks, wow. 

Fuck. 

Evan hoped Connor didn’t think he was shit at Valentine’s Day… He had gotten him a gift but Connor seemed to have a whole weekend planned… Shit. That probably wasn’t enough, right? All Evan had was a gift and some condoms which were in that were in the bag he had sent Connor off with and… He was fucking this up. He wasn’t doing enough. 

Fuck. 

The last thing he wanted was for Connor to be disappointed. 

Evan distractedly got back to work, putting in an hour before the nagging worry that Connor might not be thrilled with his interpretation of Valentine’s Day drove him out of his office and into Mariah’s. 

“Do you… do Valentine’s Day?” He asked her, dropping into a seat across from her. 

She shrugged. “I was dating a very… hippy artist type when I was an L2 and she tried to get me to attend an orgy for Valentine’s Day and I said no because, like, law school was kicking my ass and we ended up breaking up on the stoop of the orgy host’s place?”

“Oh.”

“So… not really.” Mariah smiled at him. “Was this going somewhere?”

“I… Connor showed up today with a succulent for my desk and this very cute card and he’s planning to take me to dinner and has like other weekend plans? Like. I don’t do Valentine’s Day. Or… well, I haven’t done it. My ex and I both ignored Christian holidays, and I didn’t even really think about it until a couple of weeks ago. And Connor has plans. Several days worth of plans, apparently, and I just… got him some nice whisky and made him this dumb little memory book and he’s probably going to hate it.”

Mariah stared at him. “You made him a memory book?”

“Yeah it’s fucking dumb, I’m an idiot.”

“Wait, sorry, so you went and, like, put together a bunch of cute memories that you two have together and you seriously think that your big romantic-goober boyfriend isn’t going to love it?”

The anxiety bubble that had been rapidly swelling inside of Evan seemed to pop almost instantly. “When you put it that way…” Evan said. “I’m being stupid right?”

“Yeah a little,” Mariah said. “He’s gonna eat that shit up, dude.”

“I just don’t want to mess this up.”

Mariah rolled her eyes. “Bro you could probably light him on fire and he wouldn’t mind.”

Evan was sort of self consciously smiling. “Thank you for talking me down.”

“You’re welcome.”

Evan went back to work. He kept an eye on the clock, making sure he wasn’t getting so wrapped up in his work that he wasn’t ready when Connor arrived to pick him up. Around thirty minutes before Connor was due to arrive, Evan got up from his desk and headed to the bathroom to fix his hair, straighten his tie, make sure there wasn’t anything lurking in his teeth. He looked alright he supposed. He knew Connor liked this suit anyway, so that was something.

Evan took a breath, practiced a confident smile in the mirror. It fell a little bit flat… he was nervous. He was nervous that he hadn’t put in enough effort, that Connor might be upset, might be bothered… That Connor was expecting something that Evan might not be able to deliver. Ever since he had been sick, his anxieties seemed… a little more aggressive. 

He was talking to Marcia about it. She suggested maybe increasing his dosage on his meds, but Evan was a little bit hesitant… He didn’t want to make this more of a big deal than it was, but if he was still feeling kind of off and if after the anniversary this year he still felt it, maybe he’d take her up on that offer. 

Evan straightened his tie again. Decided he hated how he had tied it, so he untied the damn thing and redid it, changing the knot. He hated that one too, tried a third, and then gave up and tied the first knot again, trying to tell himself that the anxiety was wrong, that Connor was not going to break up with him over a tie knot or a somewhat lackluster Valentine’s Day.  

“Stop,” He muttered to himself.

Connor loved him. And Evan loved Connor. 

This would be okay. 

Things would be okay. 

He went back into his office and finished up his last few tasks before the weekend, before standing and putting his laptop into his laptop bag. And then he looked up, and Connor stood in the door of his office and Evan lost his breath for a moment. He was just… so beautiful. It was wild to him to know that Connor wanted  _ him _ . Connor loved  _ him _ . The way Evan loved Connor.

“Hi,” Connor said and his voice was soft and it was one of Evan’s favorite things about him, his soft voice, his warm and slightly nervous smile and God Evan just loved him so much. 

He looked up at Connor properly, feeling himself smiling. “Hi.”

* * *

 

 

When Connor arrives at Evan’s office building for the second time that day, he feels briefly weird that he hasn’t, Iike, brought flowers or anything, but rationalises that he just gave Evan a plant and that flowers die so it’s probably fine. It’s fine. This is fine. 

 

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. It’s  _ Evan. _ Evan’s not going to break up with Connor just because he’s bad at Valentine’s Day. 

 

Not when there are so many other more valid reasons he could -

 

“Nope,” Connor mutters under his breath as he makes his way to Evan’s office. “Get your shit together.”

 

The place isn’t entirely empty, but it’s definitely showing the signs of it being a Friday night. When Connor gets to Evan’s office, he sees Evan putting his laptop into a laptop bag and somehow that makes him feel better, because clearly Evan kept an eye on the time, which means he’s looking forward to seeing Connor, and…

 

It helps. It definitely helps. 

 

“Hi,” says Connor, his voice coming out softer than he means it to. 

 

Evan looks up at him and smiles. “Hi.”

 

“How was the rest of your day?”

 

Evan nods. “Good. Productive.” He stands up and moves into kissing distance of Connor, which Connor’s extremely happy about because Evan definitely needs to be kissed. 

 

When they break apart, Connor sees something familiar in Evan’s eyes and it twists something inside his chest. “You okay?” 

 

Evan nods, a little quicker. “I’m good.”

 

“Good,” Connor says, smiling a little bit, “because I’m, like, forty-three percent sure I’m going to completely fuck up this whole Valentine’s Day thing due to my intense lack of experience, so I’m glad one of us is good.”

 

“Forty-three percent?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Specific.”

 

“It was higher this morning,” Connor admits, feeling his smile widen, “but then my boyfriend texted me ‘I love you’ ten times in a row and that brought it down considerably.”

 

Evan seems to relax. His smile gets wider and he reaches out to take Connor’s hand and squeezes it gently. “You can’t fuck this up,” he says, his voice soft and warm. “It is impossible for you to fuck this up, Connor, unless you, like, leave halfway through dinner for non-emergency reasons. Or… I don’t know, purposefully set me on fire.”

 

“I’m not planning to do either of those things.”

 

“Then it’ll be fine.” Evan squeezes his hand again. “We’re fine.” He leans in and kisses Connor gently. “Now come on, let’s go have dinner.” He grins. “Can I ask where we’re going or is it a surprise?”

 

Connor grins. “Remember how we talked about a restaurant that only sells scrambled eggs? I found one!”

 

Evan’s eyes go wide and his face falls. “Oh my fucking god.”

 

“This is New York!” Connor continues cheerfully as they head to the elevator. “If there’s any place in the world where a restaurant that only sells scrambled eggs could exist, it’s New York.” 

 

Evan hits the button for the ground floor when they’re in the elevator, then looks straight at Connor, clearly unsure as to whether or not Connor is fucking with him. 

 

Connor is  _ absolutely _ fucking with him, but refuses to admit that he’s fucking with him until they actually arrive at their dinner destination. He manages to confiscate Evan’s phone on the walk to the restaurant so Evan can’t do anything like Google ‘egg restaurants in NYC’, which annoys Evan to no end, and by the time they arrive at a cozy little Italian place Gladys and Martha have raved about, Evan looks like he’s trying to decide whether he should laugh or yell at him. 

 

Connor winks at him to see if he can tip the balance, then kisses Evan soundly, right outside the restaurant. 

 

It works. Evan sighs, kisses him back and mutters under his breath that Connor is ‘such a dick’. 

 

“You like it,” Connor says with a smirk, the double-entendre not even a little bit unintentional. 

 

Evan sighs again and takes Connor’s hand as they head inside. The server shows them to their table, which is in the corner of the room and has a candle in the middle, which Connor’s extremely pleased about because he loves the way Evan looks in candlelight. 

 

He’s aware he’s being incredibly cheesy but he doesn’t give a fuck. 

 

“So,” he says to Evan, reaching out to take his hand across the table, “Gladys and Martha recommended this place. Gladys likes the gnocchi and Martha is partial to… something with spinach and ricotta? In case that helps with your decision-making.”

 

Evan smiles at him, this big sunny smile. “I’m not surprised Martha likes something with ricotta. She does love her cheese.”

 

“That reminds me,” Connor says with a grin of his own. He rummages around in his pocket and pulls out some Lactaid, then hands it to Evan. “I came prepared.”

 

Evan’s smile gets even brighter. “I love you so much, oh my god.” 

 

They both have a look at the menu for a while, and a waitress arrives and asks if they’re ready to order. Evan looks a little panicked so Connor very politely tells the waitress they might need a few more minutes, but orders some mozzarella sticks as an appetizer and asks for a wine recommendation. 

 

“We’re after a red, I think,” Connor says to the waitress, looking at Evan to see him nod in approval. He looks back to the waitress and smiles. “I’m not really a wine expert, but I do kind of want to impress my boyfriend, so… something nice that’s not going to make me seem cheap or fiscally irresponsible?”

 

Evan kind of rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, and so is the waitress. “I’ve got your back,” she promises, and points out a couple of options on the menu. Connor picks the one she pointed to first and orders a bottle. 

 

It’s not long before Evan’s made a decision, which coincides nicely with the waitress bringing over their wine. Connor orders the gnocchi as per Gladys’s recommendation and Evan ends up going with a mushroom risotto that does, in fact, sound like it’s going to be pretty good. 

 

“I still think the scrambled egg restaurant idea has merit,” Connor says once they’ve ordered, and Evan’s eyes narrow a little as he sighs in good-natured frustration, which launches them into yet another conversation about the logistics of opening a restaurant that only sells scrambled eggs which keeps them going through the mozzarella sticks arriving and all the way to their main meals being ready. 

 

“Maybe I should branch out,” Connor says while digging into his gnocchi. “Who knows? Maybe when Mr. Markowitz at the hardware store next door finally decides to throw in the towel, I’ll buy the building off him and open a scrambled egg restaurant.” Evan scoffs and Connor grins. “I could knock out part of the wall. Make it a combination bookstore-scrambled egg restaurant.”

 

“As your lawyer, I’m going to need to see a solid business plan before letting you do anything,” Evan replies, before taking a bite of his risotto. He gestures at the plate with his fork enthusiastically. “This is really good, oh my god.” 

 

“So is this,” Connor assures him. “Want to try some?”

 

“Definitely.”

 

They try each other’s meals for a bit, and it’s all so ridiculously domestic that it kind of makes something inside Connor’s chest ache, but in a good way. 

 

He just… never really thought he’d have this, somehow. The whole romance thing seemed like something that just wasn’t for him and he’d kind of accepted that. Embraced it, even. 

 

But now he’s sitting across from Evan, whose hair is golden in the candlelight, and he’s so stupidly, ridiculously, completely in love that it feels like it’s going to burst right out of him. 

 

Evan notices him staring and looks a little self-conscious. “What?”

 

Connor feels his cheeks turn pink. “I just really fucking love you. That’s all.”

 

Evan’s smile is back, brighter than ever, and it’s Connor’s absolute favorite. 

 

Evan is his absolute favorite. 

 

They share a serving of tiramisu and finish the bottle of wine, talking the whole time about everything from Evan’s solar panel case to how a photo of Edgar asleep on a copy of The Cat in the Hat had been shared over four thousand times on Facebook. When they go to pay, Connor has to physically stop Evan from pulling out his wallet. 

 

“I’m taking you out for dinner,” Connor says firmly. “That’s the whole point.”

 

“I’ll get the tip,” Evan insists. 

 

“You will do no such thing.”

 

As they leave, Connor notices Evan giving the waitress who served them a wad of cash, even though Connor has already left a tip, and smiles a little to himself because it’s a really fucking nice thing to do and will probably mean a lot to the waitress. 

 

Evan’s just super great. 

 

They get a cab back to the bookstore, their hands clasped together in the backseat, Evan rubbing his thumb across Connor’s knuckles gently, which Connor has always loved. When they arrive, they make their way up to Connor’s apartment quickly and head into the bedroom.

 

Evan seems a little surprised that it’s warm. “You didn’t leave the heater on, did you?” he asks, frowning a little. 

 

“I got one of those timer things,” Connor assures him. “Figured it would be worth it because it’s been so fucking cold.”

 

With that, he gently removes Evan’s jacket. Evan looks at him, eyes dark, and their lips come crashing together before Connor even realizes. It takes them longer than it should to remove each other’s clothing because they both keep stopping to kiss each other, to touch each other, and by the time they’re both naked Connor’s so turned on he can’t concentrate on anything past the feeling of Evan pressed up against him. 

 

“I love you,” Connor gasps as Evan all but throws him onto the mattress. “I love you so much.”

 

“Fuck,” Evan gasps, straddling Connor and kissing his neck, “I love you, you’re so beautiful, I love you so much.”

 

There’s something frantic in Connor’s chest that he can’t quite explain or understand. He just has to touch Evan, he has to kiss him and touch him and be touched by him, he feels like he’s going to go completely insane if Evan’s away from him for even a second. As Evan’s rummaging through the drawer for condoms and lube, Connor presses kisses on his hips. 

 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says between kisses. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

 

Evan pushes Connor back against the mattress and moves his legs apart roughly, then reaches for Connor’s cock and strokes it firmly. Connor moans at the sensation and throws his head back against the pillow as Evan starts blowing him, his talented tongue swirling and sucking at the tip of his cock, driving Connor completely insane. 

 

Then Evan’s fucking his ass with his fingers, his mouth still wrapped around Connor’s cock, and Connor thinks he’s going to completely lose his mind, completely lose it, because Evan’s mouth is perfect and his fingers are perfect and he’s just completely perfect and Connor loves him so fucking much. 

 

“Fuck me,” he begs. “Please Evan, fuck me.”

 

Connor’s warm all over, almost dizzy, and all he can do is feel and moan as Evan enters him, fucking him hard and fast and pressing hot kisses against Connor’s neck, and Connor reaches down to stroke himself, rolling his hips in the way he knows Evan likes, and Evan’s panting and gasping above him, hair soaked with sweat, and Connor loves him. 

 

He loves him so much. 

 

“You’re amazing,” Evan gasps as he fucks him. “You’re so amazing I can’t believe you’re mine-”

 

“I’m yours,” Connor interrupts, pulling him in closer for a kiss. “I’m always yours.” 

 

It’s not long before they’re both coming hard, collapsing against the mattress in a sweaty heap. They stay there together for a long time, just holding each other as their breathing evens out and their bodies cool. 

 

“I love you,” Connor says quietly, kissing the top of Evan’s head. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, too,” Evan replies, kissing his neck. 

 

Eventually they clean up, getting into their pajamas and brushing their teeth and taking their medication, and Connor likes this part as well. Likes having Evan here, likes that he’s part of his routine. Evan reaches over to wipe a bit of toothpaste from the side of Connor’s mouth and Connor responds by kissing him softly and Evan laughs and it’s like the sun. 

 

“I like it when you’re here,” Connor confesses as they climb back into bed, before turning off the lamp. “I like it when you brush your teeth in my bathroom.”

 

“Well, I did have your dick in my mouth,” Evan points out, a smile in his voice. “So the tooth-brushing kind of had to happen.”

 

Connor smiles and pulls Evan closer, and it’s not long before he’s drifting off to sleep. 

 

* * *

 

When Connor wakes up on Saturday morning, Evan’s curled up against him, his head in Connor’s neck. Connor can’t help but smile and kiss the top of his head and watch him sleep for a while, even though that’s objectively creepy. Evan looks peaceful in his sleep. There’s a small smile on his face and Connor loves him so fucking much. 

 

He kisses Evan’s head again, then reluctantly pulls himself away. He has plans for this weekend, dammit, and while they’re pretty much just ‘sex and food’, to get to the food he’s actually going to have to get out of bed. 

 

If everything goes according to plan, they’ll be back in bed soon enough. 

 

Evan sighs quietly in his sleep as Connor gets out of bed, then buries his face in Connor’s pillow. When Connor opens the door, Edgar Allan Paw is sitting there waiting for him. Edgar lets out an indignant meow and takes off across the room, jumping on the bed to get to Evan. 

 

“Don’t wake him up,” Connor warns Edgar, then flicks on the heater, leaves the door open enough that Edgar can come and go and heads to the bathroom quickly before getting breakfast underway. 

 

He’s good enough at cooking these days that he can follow a recipe, even if he’d rather use the slow cooker for convenience, and manages to whip up a batch of blueberry pancakes without too much stress. When he puts the kettle on to get some coffee going, he hears the door to his room open. 

 

“Good morning,” Connor says, smiling as he turns around to see Evan. “I hope Edgar didn’t wake you up?”

 

“He did,” Evan says with a laugh, “but considering that we sexiled him last night, I figured I shouldn’t complain.”

 

Edgar rubs his little face around Connor’s ankles and meows determinedly. Connor sighs, then goes to refill his food and water bowls, but not before giving Evan a proper kiss good morning. 

 

Evan heads to the bathroom and Connor makes coffee, then puts the pancakes on the table with some maple syrup in time for Evan to get back. Evan looks at the table and his eyes widen. “These look amazing,” he says, his voice soft. “Thank you so much, oh my god.”

 

“Figured we should start the day with breakfast,” Connor says, looking at Evan with a grin. “We’ll need the energy.”

 

Evan’s eyes darken a little and he smirks at Connor. “Oh, will we?”

 

Connor just grins back. 

 

It doesn’t take them long to finish a couple of pancakes each, and Evan insists on helping Connor clean up even though Connor tries to argue that he’s got it. The minute the kitchen is clean, Evan lunges for Connor, kissing him firmly and pushing him up against the refrigerator. 

 

As nice is that is, Connor refuses to let Evan distract him from his plans for the day. 

 

“I was thinking,” Connor says, wrapping his arms around Evan’s waist, “that you might let me tie you up again.” Evan takes in a sharp breath and his eyes flash dark and Connor leans in to press kisses against his collarbone, making his way up to Evan’s ear. “I  _ like _ you tied to my bed, and I think you like it, too.”

 

Evan shivers a little. “Yes. Fuck yes, I like it a lot, oh my god-”

 

Connor kisses him again, and again, and again until he’s almost dizzy. When they finally break apart, they’re both panting for breath, looking at each other. Evan’s pupils are blown and his cheeks are flushed and he looks so fucking good like this, so incredibly beautiful. 

 

“Meet me in the bedroom,” Connor says, his voice coming out rougher than he means it to. He smiles a little sheepishly. “I just need to make sure Edgar’s not going to disturb us.”

 

Evan grins widely and heads into Connor’s room. Connor picks up Edgar, who is wriggling and meowing, and deposits him on the other side of the door between the apartment and the bookstore. He might not like it right now, but Connor knows that soon enough Edgar will be off charming customers or snuggling with Maureen, which is definitely preferable to him sitting outside the bedroom door crying when Connor’s trying to ravish his boyfriend. 

 

When Connor gets back into his room, Evan’s already naked and hard. He smiles at Connor wickedly and begins to lazily stroke himself. Connor feels his breath hitch a little. 

 

That’s obscenely hot. 

 

“Taking advantage of having your hands while you can,” Connor says as he takes off his shirt. “I see how it is.” Once he’s naked, he climbs onto the bed and pulls Evan into a hot kiss, which Evan deepens instantly, and Evan runs his free hand through Connor’s hair and tugs gently and Connor lets out a moan. 

 

“You like my hands,” Evan says, his voice low, tugging Connor’s hair again, and Connor gasps at the sensation. “You like them a lot.” 

 

“I do,” Connor says, feeling a little dazed, “but you said I could tie you up.”

 

“Maybe I’ve changed my mind,” Evan says teasingly, a smirk on his face. 

 

Connor straddles Evan and takes both of his hands by the wrists, then pins him down on the mattress. “Have you really?” he asks, as innocently as he can. “If you have, then of course we can do something else. But I think you’ll enjoy what I’ve got in mind for you, love.” He kisses Evan’s neck hungrily, and Evan writhes underneath him. “Do you want me to tie you up, Evan?”

 

“Yes,” says Evan immediately, his voice hungry. “Yes, fuck yes.”

 

Connor smiles and leans in to kiss him again, then sets about putting Evan’s wrists and ankles in the restraints. He’s almost got it down to a fine art - at least he would if his hands didn’t tremble slightly every time, because the anticipation of having Evan all tied up for him was always just a little overwhelming. 

 

Even more overwhelming was seeing Evan all tied up, naked and exposed for him to see. 

 

Connor takes a moment to drink him in. “You are so fucking beautiful, Evan. So incredibly fucking beautiful, oh my god.”

 

Evan smiles up at him. “So are you going to blindfold me this time?”

 

“Do you want me to?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.” Connor pauses for a moment and looks straight at Evan. “Safeword?”

 

“Shellfish,” Evan says immediately, his expression equal parts amusement at the word and anticipation for what’s to come. 

 

Connor’s looking forward to it, too. 

 

He puts the blindfold on Evan’s face gently, then takes a moment to stroke himself, because he’s incredibly hard, his cock leaking a little at the sight of Evan like this. No matter how many times Evan lets him do this, it never stops being fucking amazing. 

 

“I like you like this,” he says hungrily, running a finger up the inside of Evan’s thigh slowly. Evan gasps a little and bucks his hips. “I’m going to make you feel so good, Evan, I promise.” 

 

With that, he starts kissing his way from Evan’s wrist to his collarbone, slowly and gently, his free hand tracing circles on Evan’s hip as he does. Evan’s breathing is getting more and more labored and he’s biting his lip a little, like he’s trying to stop himself from moaning. 

 

Which is the exact opposite of what Connor wants. He stops where he is, straddles Evan and kisses him on the mouth, hot and deep and wet, until Evan’s writhing beneath him, letting out the most delicious noises. 

 

“Don’t hold back,” Connor tells him as he pulls back. “I want to hear you, Evan. I always want to hear you, hear you tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

 

“Fuck,” Evan says, and it sounds like it’s almost involuntary. “Fuck, Connor, oh my god.” 

 

Connor keeps kissing Evan everywhere he can think of, everywhere but his cock, because he’s going to make Evan wait as long as he can manage it. Evan’s moans get louder and louder and he’s swearing and gasping and moaning Connor’s name, just like Connor wants him to. 

 

It’s intoxicating. 

 

Connor moves down the bed and slowly licks his way along the bottom of Evan’s erection. Evan lets out a loud moan, and Connor continues, slowly licking for a little bit longer until he can’t help it, he has to take Evan in his mouth, sucking and licking and focusing on all the sounds Evan’s making, his barely coherent words. 

 

“Fuck, Connor, your mouth, oh my god I love you, I love you so much, fuck fuck fuck-”

 

Evan’s hips are moving and his breathing is getting heavier and heavier and he’s close, Connor can tell that he’s close, and he keeps going for just a little longer until Evan’s right on the edge…

 

And then he pulls away, panting, and watches as Evan writhes and moans and lets out a groan of frustration. 

 

“Not yet,” Connor manages to say when he finally gets his own breathing under control. “I don’t want you coming for me just yet.” 

 

“Fuck, Connor, oh my god please please please-”

 

Connor presses soft kisses up and down Evan’s thighs and Evan keeps writhing and moaning and gasping. “Not yet.”

 

He reluctantly pulls away and as quietly and quickly as he can gets lube and a condom from his dresser drawer. He pours out some lube on his fingers, then positions himself so he has better access to Evan’s hole. When he inserts the first finger, Evan lets out a long low moan of pleasure and Connor smiles. 

 

“Connor, Connor oh my god, fuck fuck fuck your hands oh my god I love you fuck, fuck  _ please _ Connor…”

 

“You’re so beautiful,” Connor says softly. He inserts another finger and Evan moans again, that long low moan that Connor loves so much, and Connor starts moving his fingers a little faster, and Evan’s breathing gets heavier and his hips buck in pleasure and Connor starts stroking his cock with his free hand, soft strokes that get longer and firmer as Evan’s moaning gets louder and louder, words pouring out of him like he can’t hold them back, and Connor loves him so much, loves him like this. 

 

“Oh god oh god fuck fuck fuck Connor your fingers feel so good fuck fuck please please please fuck I love you I love you...”

 

“You’re so good,” Connor says, his voice coming out rough. “Fuck, you’re so good, Evan, you’re so good for me.”

 

“Connor, Connor, I love you fuck fuck fuck I-”

 

Connor pulls his fingers out and sits back on his heels, watching Evan moan and writhe and gasp and swear, his hair soaked with sweat, his cock red and leaking, his face flushed, and he is so, so, so beautiful. 

 

“You’re doing so well,” Connor says, kissing Evan’s neck and feeling him shudder. “You’re so good, Evan, you’re so beautiful like this.” He kisses Evan’s neck, then kisses his collarbone, and Evan’s whimpering a little. “I’m going to fuck you now. Do you want me to fuck you?”

 

“Yes yes, fuck fuck fuck yes Connor please please please-”

 

Connor kisses him. “Needy,” he says teasingly. “But I like you needy.”

 

“Please fuck me Connor I need you to fuck me please please fuck fuck fuck fuck...”

 

Connor kisses him again. “I love you,” he says, still completely overwhelmed that Evan is letting him do this. He strokes himself a few times, noticing that he’s painfully turned on by now, and knows that once he’s inside Evan, he won’t last long. 

 

Which is probably just as well, considering that he’s brought Evan to the verge of orgasm twice now and not let him come. Connor knows from all the times that Evan’s told him not to come that once he finally does, it’ll be all the more intense. 

 

He rolls the condom over his cock, rubs some more lube on for good measure, then looks at Evan for a long moment, just drinking him in. 

 

He’s still moaning and gasping and writhing and panting and swearing and murmuring Connor’s name and begging to be fucked and Connor just fucking loves him so much. 

 

When he enters Evan, Evan lets out a sound that’s almost a sob of relief, and Connor leans in to kiss him, slowly and softly at first, then deeper, rougher. He reaches down to stroke Evan’s cock as he fucks him, starting slow but getting faster and harder quickly. 

 

“Connor, fuck fuck fuck you feel so good I love it when you fuck me fuck fuck fuck...”

 

“Evan,” Connor gasps. “Evan, fuck,  _ fuck _ you’re tight, you feel so good, you’re so good for me, Evan, you’re doing so well, I love you so fucking much,  _ fuck.” _

 

“Please,” Evan pleads, his voice breaking into what’s almost a sob. “Please, Connor, I need-”

 

“I want you to come for me,” Connor says roughly, twisting his wrist a little as he strokes Evan’s cock. “Come for me, love, come hard for me, I want you to.”

 

And then Evan’s letting out a loud moan and spilling into Connor’s hand, swearing and panting and moaning Connor’s name, and it’s so fucking hot that it sends Connor over the edge, his mind blanking out into white-hot pleasure, and he keeps moving as he rides out his orgasm, Evan’s name on his lips. 

 

When he finally comes back to himself, he realizes that Evan’s shaking. He pulls out slowly, then pulls the blindfold off and kisses Evan’s cheek gently. “Hey,” he says softly. “Are you alright?”

 

Evan lets out a shaky breath, blinks a few times and looks up at Connor, and his eyelashes are a little damp and Connor’s chest twinges a little. “I love you fucking much,” Evan says, his voice slurring a little. “That was… oh my god, I love you so much, that was so good.”

 

Connor hurries to uncuff Evan, kissing him over and over again as he does. He doesn’t dare leave to get a washcloth until Evan’s stopped shaking, but when Evan says it’s okay he makes sure to go as quickly as he can and be back as soon as he can manage and gently cleans Evan up, then hands him a bottle of water he’d put beside the bed beforehand so he can rehydrate. 

 

Once they’re both cleaned up, Connor pulls the blankets up over the two of them and Evan clings to him tightly, his breathing still a little heavier than usual, trembling a little again. Connor kisses the top of his head. 

 

“Was that too much?” he asks, his voice soft. Evan shakes his head firmly against Connor’s neck, then kisses him. 

 

“I love you,” Evan says, and he sounds exhausted but happy, and Connor loves him so fucking much. 

 

* * *

 

Part of Evan wondered if he ought to be embarrassed by just how utterly overwhelming that clearly was for him. If he ought to toughen up, put on a brave face for Connor, muscle through it. Pretend he was fine, totally fine, and not completely and totally wrecked in the best possible way.

But Connor was just so fucking amazing. He pulled Evan to him tightly, his embrace warm and Evan just… needed it. He needed to stay right there, in Connor’s arms, and he didn’t pull away or protest when Connor kept telling him he had done well, that he was alright, that he was good and Connor loved him so much, he loved him and fuck, fuck, he had done his best so he just… 

He let go and let Connor catch him. 

Evan was too exhausted to really muster up any embarrassment anyway. He buried his face in Connor’s neck, his favorite place, and stayed put for a long time. Connor’s hands gently traced circles on his skin, intoxicating little loops and flourishes that only seemed to make him tremble harder, still feeling hazy and almost high. He felt sore still, in his wrists and his ankles, his muscles still quivering and he could still feel Connor inside of him, fucking him, and fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Evan might naturally lean toward topping, toward being the more dominant one in the bedroom but… Connor was extremely good at it. He had made Evan feel totally and completely out of control and being at Connor’s mercy like that? Being helpless against his touch in that way? Fuck it had been incredible. Overwhelming and amazing and incredible.

Connor kissed his lips softly, pushing his damp hair out of Evan’s face. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Evan murmured, still really only half there, part of him still tangled in being tied up for Connor, being brought so close, so fucking close  _ twice _ and not allowed to come yet, not allowed to because Connor said he couldn’t and Evan had to try so hard, so hard to be good and do what he was told and… Fuck. Connor’s self control clearly outstriped his own because, sure, Evan had told Connor to wait to come before but… That was something else entirely. 

And he loved it. 

He had loved it. 

“You doing okay?” Connor asked. 

“Yeah,” Evan mumbled, kissing Connor’s collarbone, his nose pressed against Connor’s neck. “Just a little… out of it.” He kissed the same spot again and Connor hummed and the sound rattled through Evan’s bones. “I think you broke me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Evan mumbled. “I loved it.”

“Do you wanna sleep a little?” Connor asked gently and it was exactly what Evan needed, like he had been waiting for permission to do exactly that and he nodded. 

“Yeah,” He said, finding his voice after a moment. “Sleep… would be good.”

“Wore you out, didn’t I?” Connor asked, kissing the top of his head. 

“Yeah,” Evan said breathlessly, his mind flashing back, remembering, vividly, Connor’s mouth and his fingers and his cock. “I loved it. I love you.”

“I love you,” Connor said too. He gently untangled himself from Evan’s grasping limbs and Evan barely managed to choke back a whine because he didn’t want Connor to leave. “Just getting your pajamas,” He said softly. “You seem a little cold. Not going anywhere.”

He was cold, Evan realized distantly, once the sweat on his skin had cooled. Some of the shaking might have been shivers, he wasn’t sure. But the idea of having to operate his arms and legs and body to put clothes back on seemed extremely difficult right now. He watched as Connor pulled his sweats and shirt back on first, before carrying Evan’s clothes over to the bed. Evan gingerly sat up, then slowly stood up, sore from being fucked and from pulling a bit against the restraints, and Connor helped to steady him as he stepped into his own sweatpants and pulled his shirt back over his head. Connor had grabbed Evan one of his hoodies, and Evan pulled it on slowly. “Here,” Connor said softly, zipping the front up for him. “That should help.”

It did. 

Evan sort of loved getting to steal Connor’s hoodies. To him they were always softer, always warmer, and he liked that they smelled like Connor’s laundry detergent. They made him feel safe, made him feel cared for, like he belonged to Connor. Maybe this was why Sabrina always used to steal his hoodies in college. A physical sign of being taken care of by someone who loved you. 

Connor pulled the blankets back up around Evan, saying he would be back in just a minute, but that Evan could sleep if he wanted and Evan wanted, desperately, to sleep but not until Connor was back. He rested his head against Connor’s pillow, liking how it smelled like Connor’s shampoo and how it was soft and warm. He closed his eyes but refused to drift off. Not yet. Not until Connor came back. 

Connor returned, bringing back the bottle of water he had filled up again. He asked if Evan could sit, if he wanted some water, and Evan agreed, drinking a little until his throat felt less raw. Connor kissed the side of his head, drank a little water himself, and climbed back into bed with Evan. Evan immediately cuddled up to his side, burying his face in Connor’s neck, murmuring, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Connor returned softly, pulling Evan in closer, kissing his forehead. “Sleep a little. You look exhausted.”

“Yeah,” Evan breathed, still holding on even as things started to get warm and a bit blurry around the edges of his consciousness. “I love you. Thank you, for earlier… For… it was amazing, Connor.”

“I’m glad,” Connor said. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Anything you want,” Evan said sleepily. “Anything for you.”

“Sleep, love,” Connor said gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

That was exactly what he needed to hear.

So Evan slept. 

 

* * *

 

Evan’s out like a light almost as soon as Connor gets back into bed, and Connor lets himself enjoy the feeling of Evan cuddled against him, his face in Connor’s neck. It’s comforting and warm and feels… familiar, somehow. Like Connor’s neck is  _ supposed _ to have Evan’s face in it, his breath warm and soft on Connor’s collarbone. 

 

It’s not long before he finds himself drifting off as well. 

 

When he wakes up, Evan’s still asleep, still clinging to his side, and Connor immediately smiles. He just really fucking loves Evan, loves having him in his apartment, in his bed, all to himself for the weekend. 

 

He reaches over to check his phone and realizes that he’s going to need to put the slow cooker on if he wants dinner to be ready in time.

 

He’s reluctant to leave Evan, but if he’s quick…

 

Connor slowly, gently pulls himself free of Evan’s grasp, and Evan lets out a tiny sigh in his sleep which is super fucking adorable. Once he’s managed to get untangled, he practically runs to the kitchen to put the ingredients he prepared the day before into the slow cooker, then goes to the bathroom quickly and picks up his laptop on his way back into the bedroom, putting it on his bedside table before climbing back into bed. 

 

The movement seems to wake Evan up. He looks at Connor and blinks a few times, clearly still kind of spacey. “Where did you go?”

 

“Just put on the slow cooker,” Connor tells him quietly, pulling Evan closer toward him. Evan buries his face in Connor’s neck immediately and lets out a contented sigh. Connor kisses the top of his head. “You okay?”

 

“I’m great,” Evan says, his voice still a little sleepy. “You’re warm.”

 

“You’re gorgeous.”

 

“Best boyfriend ever,” Evan murmurs, kissing Connor’s collarbone again, then moving his face so he can kiss Connor properly. “You just… fuck, I think you broke me, I’m all… I love you so much.”

 

“Sorry for breaking you,” Connor says with a small smile. 

 

“Don’t apologize. I liked it.”

 

“I like  _ you.” _

 

“I  _ love _ you.”

 

Connor chuckles. “We’re that couple now, aren’t we?”

 

“Yep,” says Evan happily, snuggling into Connor even closer. 

 

They sleep a little while longer, drifting in and out, exchanging lazy kisses in the moments they both find themselves awake but mostly just resting and being with each other. Connor suspects they could both use the rest, especially now. 

 

Especially in February, with Connor’s birthday less than two weeks away. 

 

Connor kisses Evan’s head and pushes the thought out of his mind. He doesn’t want to think about that now, and he’s not going to. As much as he wants to spoil Evan on Valentine’s Day, to lavish affection on him and show him just how much Connor loves him, he has to admit that a huge part of the appeal is as a distraction from what’s coming up. 

 

A distraction from the memory of them dying and dying and dying. 

 

A distraction from the fear that this isn’t over, that he could lose Evan. 

 

Evan kisses his collarbone and Connor pulls him closer and remembers seeing him in an elevator for the first time in nine years, and how it had taken him a while to place him, to figure out who he was, after all those years. 

 

Connor remembers looking at his own reflection in the mirror and realizing it had been his old classmate there with him in that elevator, remembering a letter he was never supposed to have seen that had meant so much to him. 

 

That letter…

 

It had been important to him.

 

But it was nowhere  _ near _ as important as Evan is to him now. 

 

Evan is…

 

Evan is  _ everything. _ He’s his best friend, the person he trusts most in the world, someone who understands him, who understands what it’s like to be lonely and how amazing it is to not have to be lonely anymore. He’s kind and he’s smart and he’s passionate and he cares so much and he works so hard and he’s  _ ridiculously _ good in bed. 

 

And somehow, despite all Connor’s flaws, Evan loves Connor. 

 

Connor’s spent so much time thinking that that kind of love wasn’t for him. 

 

But when Evan says  _ I love you, _ Connor believes him. 

 

That’s…

 

It’s everything. 

 

Evan is  _ everything _ to him. 

 

The universe is mysterious and arbitrary and kind of a dick. Connor will probably never understand what happened to them, why it happened, but…

 

The universe might be a dick, but it brought them together. 

 

And they saved each other. 

 

Connor thinks that maybe, just maybe, the universe wants Evan and Connor to be together. It made its wishes known in a super fucked up way, to be sure, but it brought them together, nevertheless. 

 

The universe wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble just to separate them again. 

 

Connor has to believe that. Has to hold onto that, especially now. 

 

They spend the afternoon cuddling and dozing and it’s not until they both notice the delicious smells coming from the kitchen that they properly get up. Connor’s made lamb shanks in the slow cooker and still has to make mashed potatoes to go with it, so reluctantly gets out of bed. Evan gets out of bed, too, even though Connor assures him he doesn’t have to, and they both put on socks and head out into the kitchen. 

 

“Let me help,” Evan says, all but glued to Connor’s side as he starts gathering the potatoes. 

 

Connor leans in and kisses him. “I’m cooking for you,” he says gently. “You don’t have to do anything.”

 

Evan kisses him back, then takes his hand and rubs his finger across Connor’s knuckles and leans his head on Connor’s shoulder. Connor smiles and kisses him again. 

 

He ends up sitting with Evan at the kitchen table as they peel potatoes together, Evan looking at him with warm, soft eyes the whole time. Connor loves Evan so fucking much, and always kind of loves it when Evan’s a little clingy after Connor tops him. 

 

It’s just… nice, having Evan so open about his feelings, so obviously wanting to be with Connor. After so much time holding back how he felt, Connor’s glad that Evan can be open like this now. 

 

Also, he has to admit it’s an ego boost to have clearly worn Evan out with sex. 

 

Connor watches Evan carefully, though, and makes sure he has everything he needs, everything he wants, because Evan deserves everything and as intense as things were this morning, he knows that the aftercare is just as important. 

 

God knows Connor was basically mush after Evan tied him up earlier in the month. He knows what it’s like to feel this, to need that reassurance that the person you love is there, that they care about you and want you safe and protected. 

 

Once the potatoes are on to boil, Connor has a look at the lamb shanks and is happy to note that they’re falling off the bone tender, which is just what he was after. 

 

“That smells amazing,” Evan says, genuine awe in his voice. “You’re just so amazing Connor, oh my god.”

 

“I wanted this weekend to be special,” Connor says, feeling his cheeks turn pink. “This is my first Valentine’s, I wanted to make sure I was doing it right.”

 

Evan smiles this big soft smile. “You’re doing amazing. You’re so amazing, Connor, I love you so much.”

 

Once he’s mashed the potatoes, Connor serves them both up a plate and pours them both a glass of seltzer, which isn’t exactly the traditional beverage to go with a fancy dinner but he figures that they don’t always need to be drinking alcohol. 

 

Evan takes a bite and his eyes widen in appreciation. “Oh my god. Connor, holy shit this is so good.”

 

Connor takes his own bite and nods. “Yeah, it turned out good. I’m really glad.”

 

Evan reaches out to squeeze his hand. “I love you. I love you so, so, so much.”

 

Connor grins, takes Evan’s hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I love you, too.”

 

Once they’ve finished their lamb shanks, Evan insists on helping with the dishes, even though Connor tries to convince him he doesn’t have to, and they stand shoulder to shoulder at the sink, stealing kisses every few minutes as they clean. Connor takes a moment to get the slow cooker ready for his plans for breakfast the next day as Evan goes to the bathroom, then pulls out the rest of the lemon cookies for dessert. 

 

Soon they’re curled up in bed again with lemon cookies and Connor’s laptop, Evan’s head resting against his chest. Connor goes to Netflix and puts on Into The Spider-Verse, which makes Evan grin with delight. 

 

“I know you like Spider-Man,” Connor says as the film starts, pressing a kiss on Evan’s head. “And I actually genuinely liked this movie a lot.”

 

“You’re so good,” Evan says, reaching up to kiss him again. “I love you so much.”

 

* * *

 

On Sunday morning, Connor wakes up before Evan to find him still curled up against him, his breath soft on Connor’s neck. He can smell cinnamon, which is a good sign that the slow cooker did what it was supposed to overnight. Slowly, carefully, he untangles from Evan to go get breakfast sorted. 

 

Breakfast in bed is a cliche, to be sure, but like most cliches, it’s one for a reason. Connor puts together a tray of slow-cooked French toast, maple syrup, sliced bananas, coffee and orange juice and heads back into the bedroom to find that Evan’s stirring a little. 

 

“Hey,” he says gently. “I made breakfast. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

 

Evan sits up, blinks a few times and then smiles widely. “You made breakfast?” 

 

“Yup,” says Connor with a smile of his own, maneuvering his way back into bed with the tray of food. “Guess what?”

 

“What?”

 

“I love you.”

 

“You are such a dork,” Evan groans, then leans in and kisses him soundly. When they finally break apart, he looks at the tray and his eyes widen in surprise. “This is… this looks amazing, Connor, oh my god.”

 

Connor shrugs. “The slow cooker did all the work, I swear.”

 

Evan just shakes his head, smiling even wider. “You are… oh my god, Connor, you are just incredible, you know that?”

 

Connor feels his cheeks turn pink. “I just wanted to do something nice.”

 

“This is very very nice,” Evan assures him as Connor hands him a cup of coffee. “Thank you so much.”

 

They manage to get through the food pretty quickly, all things considered, Evan continually telling Connor how much he’s enjoying it the whole way through. 

 

“We should really figure out a way for you to capitalize on these culinary skills,” Evan comments as he finishes off the last of his French toast. “Maybe you could start doing, like, books and breakfast at the store.”

 

Connor smiles, then bites his lip a little, before bracing himself and continuing. “Actually,” he says, going for as casual a tone as he can manage, “speaking of that… I’ve kind of been thinking about branching out with the store.”

 

Evan looks at him intently, clearly seeing past the forced casualness. “Tell me more.”

 

Connor shrugs. “I just keep thinking that it’d be great if there was an espresso machine and some sofas and armchairs, you know? Make it a place that people could come and relax and spend time together, make it even more accessible for queer youth and stuff.” He takes a sip of his coffee, then continues. “And then I got to thinking… well, the hardware store next door is dead. Like, completely dead. I barely see anyone go in there. And, okay, Mr. Markowitz who runs it is an asshole, but… maybe he’ll want to sell one day and if he does… it’d be a great place for a cafe.” Evan’s still looking at him intently, frowning slightly, and Connor is pretty sure he’s just thinking but he’s feeling a little nervous. “Obviously I’d do all my research to make sure I knew what I was getting into. It’d be a whole different thing to taking over the bookstore, I know that. But if it was next door, maybe we could knock out a wall so they’re connected. A bookstore and a cafe seem like a pretty good combination to me.”

 

Evan nods, and his face softens and he smiles. “That sounds amazing,” he says, his voice sincere. “That would be so great. And of course you’d have me to help with the paperwork and the research and figuring it all out.” 

 

“You’d help?” Connor asks, feeling a little stupid as he does because… 

 

Of course Evan would help. That’s who he is. 

 

“Of course,” Evan says simply, smiling even wider. “Of course I’d help. It’s a great idea, Connor. I think it’s amazing to have safe spaces for queer people that aren’t bars, and the bookstore is already so important to so many people. A cafe would just open it up more. It’d be amazing.” He kisses Connor gently. “You’re amazing.”

 

“I love you,” Connor says softly. “I love you so much. Thank you so much for being here this weekend.”

 

Evan laughs a little. “Thank  _ you,” _ he says, his voice soft and earnest. “For everything. Dinner on Friday and last night and breakfasts and sex and Spider-Man and… god, Connor, you just…” He bites his lip, blinks a few times and continues. “Every time I think that you couldn’t possibly get more amazing, you just have to prove me wrong and be even more incredible.”

 

Connor grins. “Yes, well, I am a contrary bastard.” 

 

“You’re completely ridiculous and I love you.” Evan leans over to beside the bed and pulls something out of his bag, then something else, and soon there’s a carefully wrapped rectangular parcel in Connor’s hand, along with a bottle of 25-year-old Chivas whisky. “These are for you. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

 

Connor feels warm all over. “You got me pretentious asshole whisky.”

 

“I did,” Evan says with a grin. “But that’s just an extra, the real present is… just open it, okay?”

 

Connor opens the parcel carefully, revealing a book, which he’d kind of expected from the shape. It’s a navy blue color with no title, which Connor assumes is some kind of journal. He opens the cover and feels his breath catch in his throat as he flicks through the pages. 

 

The book is full of memories. Souvenirs of things he and Evan had done together, places they’d been and moments they’d had. There are fortunes from cookies they’d gotten with Chinese food, a movie ticket from their first date, a business card from the Diner Where They Didn’t Die…

 

“Oh my god,” Connor says, his voice barely above a whisper. He can’t stop fucking smiling as he gently, carefully goes through the pages. With every glued in souvenir there’s a note from Evan, carefully dated, talking about what they’d done, where they’d been and what Evan liked about it. 

 

He turns to see a picture of the two of them at Connor’s Harry Potter party, sitting and reading a book together, and looks at the inscription below. 

 

_ Your 10th birthday party. I was so nervous, so overwhelmed, and I remember thinking it was nice to just sit and read with you, even though we weren’t really friends. Looking back, it’s hard not to wish we’d talked properly then. I could have had you in my life for so much longer.  _

 

There’s a cocktail napkin with an inscription underneath about how they’d had drinks with Sabrina and Graham before they dated. The boarding passes from when they went home for Thanksgiving the year before last. A receipt for bomb pomps from the pharmacy between their apartments from June. 

 

And a picture of Evan from senior year with his arm in a cast, Connor’s name written across in blocky, messy lettering. 

 

_ Senior year of high school. You were the only person who signed my cast. I wish I’d known how to talk to you. It breaks my heart to think about how lonely we both were, how lost and hopeless. I’m so glad we’re both here, Connor. I’m so glad we have each other.  _

 

Connor can feel his eyes stinging, his vision blurring a little, and he blinks a few times, his eyelashes getting wet and his face getting hot. “Fuck,” he murmurs. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Evan rushes to say, taking his hand and holding it firmly. “I didn’t mean to-”

 

“This is perfect,” Connor interrupts him softly. He pulls Evan close to him, holding him tight tight tight, tighter than he probably should but he just has touch him right now, has to be sure that he’s here and they’re together. He kisses Evan, slow and soft for a long time. “You’re perfect. Thank you. Seriously, _ thank you. _ I love you so fucking much.”

 

Evan’s cheeks flush. “I know it’s cheesy-”

 

“I love cheese.” Connor grins. “Evan, seriously, this is… this is incredible.” He suddenly remembers he’s got the last part of Evan’s gift in his dresser drawer and feels a little sheepish all of a sudden. “Okay, so now I feel kind of stupid.”

 

Evan’s eyes widen. “What? Why?”

 

Connor pulls the wrapped book from his dresser and hands it to Evan. “Open it,” he instructs, feeling his cheeks turn pink. “It’s nowhere near as impressive as your amazing big romantic gesture, oh my god.”

 

Evan’s cheeks are turning pink as well, but he dutifully unwraps the gift. Then he looks at the title for a long moment and bursts into hysterical laughter. 

 

“I told you it was stupid,” Connor murmurs, feeling his face go even hotter. 

 

“It’s perfect,” Evan insists, holding up the book and still practically shaking with laughter. “I can’t believe you got me a copy of the Gay Kama Sutra, oh my  _ god.” _

 

“You like it?”

 

“I love it,” Evan says, and he sounds like he’s telling the truth, so Connor believes him. “It’s completely ridiculous and I love it so much. I love  _ you _ so much.”

 

* * *

 

Evan thought the book was amazing. Like, hilarious and adorable and a perfectly Connor gift and he loved it. He loved it so much. “It’s completely ridiculous and I love it so much. I love  _ you _ so much.”

Connor smiled at him, a little bashful and a little shy. “I love you too.”

“You uh, you sort of knocked it out of the park with Valentine’s Day?” Evan said, smiling harder. “I love it so much? Just… thank you. For everything. Not just this book, which I adore, but… Everything. Since Friday. You’ve definitely spoiled me.”

Connor smiled a little brighter then. “It was sixty percent because I’m madly in love with you,” he said, kissing Evan softly. “Thirty percent because we needed something nice in February, because this month is… a lot and I thought we could use a break.” Evan’s heart twisted at that, and he was full of such love, such affection for Connor, and he had to kiss him again, had to pull him in close and kiss him properly because he was so fucking in love with this sweet, genuine man and even one more second without a kiss was too much for Evan to bear. 

When they pulled apart, smiling at each other, Evan realized something. “Wait… that’s only ninety percent. What’s the other ten?”

Connor’s cheeks went even pinker. “It’s dumb.”

“So?” Evan smiled at him. 

“Well… I guess. Ten percent that... I wanted to out Valentines Sabrina?” 

“Oh,” Evan said, surprised. Because oh, he hadn’t even considered that, and oh, Connor 

was so adorably weirdly competitive and oh, fuck, Evan loved him so much.

“See, I shouldn’t have said that, it was dumb…”

Evan shook his head. “You… you definitely won.” He sort of ducked his head, almost embarrassed. “She and I… we didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.”

“You didn’t?” Connor sounded surprised. 

“We didn’t,” Evan said, shrugging a little. “Uh… It’s just. I mean she’s Muslim and I’m Jewish so.”

“So?” Connor pressed, clearly not following.

“Well, Valentine’s Day is sort of a Christian holiday?” Evan said, feeling a little silly for having brought it up. “Like, sure, a lot of Jews do it because it’s basically secular now but when I met Sabrina both of us were a bit… intense about our refusal to participate in overly-commercialized Christian holidays so we just. Never did it.”

“Oh my god,” Connor said, sounding embarrassed, his cheeks deliciously pink. “I didn’t even realize it was a Christian holiday.”

Evan smiled, laughing almost. “Connor… it has ‘saint’ in the title.”

“Oh god,” He said, covering his face with his hands. “I’m stupid.”

“You’re not,” Evan said kissing Connor’s hand. “I’m pretty sure it started off because some Roman dude got himself killed for Jesus-related reasons. I looked it up once.”

“You’re Jewish,” Connor said forlornly, hardly looking up from the cover of his hands. 

“I’m aware,” Evan said, smiling. 

“I made a huge deal out of Valentine’s Day and you’re  _ Jewish.” _

“I know,” Evan said. “I liked it. You’re adorable. I love you.”

“It’s a fucking  _ Christian _ holiday.”

“I mean, it’s more of a Hallmark and Hershey’s holiday these days anyway, but. Yeah. Sabrina and I never did it. This is… uh. This is my first real Valentine’s Day too.” He smiled again. “Well. Except. Hang on…” He picked up the memory book he had given Connor, flipping to one of the back pages. “So my mom sent this to me a couple of weeks back? I guess she found it with some old art projects or whatever.” He handed the book to Connor, who was still bright pink and embarrassed. 

On the page was an old, slightly crumpled paper Valentine, with a pink background and an illustration of Pikachu on it, with bubbled lettered text across the top that read, “I choose you, Valentine!” The To line read: EVAN in sloppy, nearly eight-year-old print, and the from read: CONNOR. All caps. 

“So apparently, we had a Valentine’s thing happening in like. Second grade.”

Connor laughed, shaking his head. “I remember filling these out. My mom kept telling me I had to write neater.” He smiled at Evan. “You kept this?”

Evan smiled. “I guess I did.”

Connor smiled slightly. “I feel kind of silly,” He said softly. 

“Why?” Evan asked, taking his hand. “I loved all of it. You’re amazing. You’re just… the best.”

“Because the book is… sort of silly.”

“I love it,” Evan said, smiling hard. “Like I really love it.” He picked it up, paging through it a little, landing on something that intrigued him. “Like. This one. It looks pretty good.”

Connor’s eyes went kind of wide. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It looks… kind of fun,” Evan said, his fingers tracing Connor’s thigh. “Or…” He turned the page. “Plus… uh. This one. It doesn’t look  _ too _ athletic.” He pressed a kiss to Connor’s neck and Connor shivered. Connor kissed him hard, his hand on the back of Evan’s neck. 

“Okay, so let’s just get this out of the way,” Evan said, pulling away slightly. Connor groaned, and Evan stood up, collecting all of the breakfast items. He slowly made his way to the kitchen and Connor sighed a little, hurrying to his feet, picking up the books and wrapping paper from the bed. Evan took his sweet time, putting all of the dishes in the sink. 

Evan walked back to Connor’s room to see him gently picking Edgar up and deposit him on the other side of the door to the apartment. Connor headed back to the bedroom, flushing and smiling, and he kissed Evan soundly upon returning. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Evan said, kissing him back. Pressing kiss after kiss after kiss to his chin, his jaw, his neck, then traced his teeth along the shell of Connor’s ear. Connor sighed, his eyes falling closed. Evan’s hands traced the curve of Connor’s hips, his ass, and Connor sighed again, more breathy, and Evan smiled against his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Connor said, breathless and smiling. 

Evan pulled Connor’s shirt up, his fingers climbing Connor’s ribs like a ladder. Connor hissed as Evan’s other hand cupped his groin through his sweats. Connor was already hard and Evan loved it, loved how his body responded to Evan’s touch. He reached his hand into the waistband of Connor’s sweats, reaching into his boxer’s and stroking his erection slowly. “Fuck,” Connor moaned. 

“You’re beautiful,” Evan said softly, stroking him a little more firmly. 

Connor’s cheeks flushed deeper, and he kissed Evan’s neck softly. “So are you.”

“Take this off,” Evan said, kissing Connor and releasing his cock to pull on the hem of his shirt. 

“Okay,” Connor said, nodding. He pulled away ever so slightly, grabbing at the collar of his shirt and pulling it over his head. Shirtless, Evan pulled Connor to him again, his hands caressing Connor’s bare skin, his back, his stomach, his chest. He kissed Connor’s mouth again, hot and wet, his tongue exploring Connor’s mouth, his teeth scraping gently across Connor’s bottom lip. He pulled away, kissing Connor’s neck again, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin where his neck met his shoulder. Evan kissed Connor’s collarbone, his tongue running across the divet above it and Connor moaned. 

“Evan, fuck,” Connor breathed, pulling away slightly to tug down the zipper of the hoodie Evan was wearing, then he pushed it off of Evan’s shoulders. Connor pulled Evan’s t-shirt over his head then kissed Evan’s neck, his collarbone which made Evan’s skin erupt in goosebumps. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Evan said warmly, his fingers weaving into Connor’s long hair, tugging on it gently and Connor let out a soft little “ah,” and Evan captured his lips in another kiss, open and hot, his other hand reaching down to stroke Connor again, and Connor groaned. “I love you so much.”

“Fuck, Evan,” Connor said, kissing him again, his lips soft and pliant against Evan’s. 

“Let’s get you out of these,” Evan said, stroking Connor once more before letting go of his erection. Connor nodded eagerly, kissing Evan once more, and then Evan pulled on Connor’s sweatpants and removed his underwear and Connor was standing there, naked and hard, his chest flushed pink to match his cheeks and the head of his cock and Evan dropped to his knees, pressing a kiss to Connor’s hipbone. Connor hissed, his hips bucking, and Evan kissed his left hip, more open and wetter this time, before gently sinking his teeth into the skin and Connor groaned, “Fuck, please.”

“Please what?” Evan said, innocently, looking up through his lashes. 

“Please,” Connor whined. “ _ Please _ .”

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Evan said, smiling wickedly, kissing Connor hip again, his tongue tracing a pattern against the skin. He kissed the area lightly. “What do you want?”

“Blow me,” Connor said breathlessly, “Please?”

Evan smiled harder, saying, “I love it when you say please.” He placed a kiss at the base of Connor’s cock, his tongue tasting him, running up along the underside of his erection. Then he wrapped his lips around the tip of Connor’s cock, and Connor moaned lowly, his hips moving. He swirled his tongue around the crown again, and Connor's hips jerked, and Evan applied some suction, loving the way it made Connor moan and gasp. 

“Fuck, your mouth Evan, fuck.”

He kept blowing Connor, focusing on making him groan and tangle his hand in Evan’s hair, tugging harder with each bob of Evan’s head. He loved Connor like this, his head thrown back in pleasure, his body flushed, his hips bucking helplessly to try to get more of Evan’s mouth. 

Evan pulled away from Connor’s cock, his lips making a wet pop as he pulled away and Connor whined, frustrated. Evan stood back up, kissing Connor from his hips to his stomach, sucking on one of his nipples and then biting Connor’s neck. 

“Want to try out that move?” Evan asked Connor, breathlessly. 

“Yes,” Connor said, breathless and smiling. 

“Great,” Evan said, smiling. He stepped out of his sweatpants and boxers, stroking himself slowly, liking the way that Connor’s eyes went half-lidded with desire as he watched. “On your back,” Evan instructed, and Connor nodded eagerly, and he laid down on his back on the bed, breathing heavily. 

Evan went into the bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube. He poured a generous amount onto his fingers, getting them nice and slick, and Evan knew Connor was watching him hungrily and so he took his time, making Connor wait. Connor sighed, a little frustrated, and said, “Do  _ something _ . Please.”

“Oh? What would you like me to do?” Evan asked, his voice all innocently curious. 

“Please… Please. Your fingers.”

“You want me to finger you?” Evan clarified, still smiling. 

“Please?” Connor said. 

“Please what, Connor?”

Connor groaned, frustrated. “Please finger me. Please.” Evan smiled and pressed his first finger into Connor, and Connor sighed, his face relaxed a bit, and he smiled. “Jerk,” Connor breathed. 

“I just like it when you ask for what you want,” Evan said, pushing in a second finger which made Connor jerk a little. “I like being able to give you what you want,” He went on, fucking Connor a little harder with his fingers, loving the dirty wet sounds of finger fucking Connor’s ass, hooking his fingers slightly until Connor shuddered and his hips bucked. 

“You.. are a jerk,” Connor said, and Evan could see a little sweat starting to collect on Connor’s upper lip and hairline, and he leaned over and kissed Connor softly, tasting the salt on his lips and fingering him faster now, until Connor was panting against Evan’s mouth. 

“Do you want me to fuck you now?” Evan asked. 

“Yes.”

“That’s not very nice,” Evan said, teasing. 

“Please. Yes, please fuck me.”

“Very good,” Evan said. “I love you so much.” He pulled his fingers out of Connor gently, and Connor whined a bit, like he missed the contact and Evan knew exactly how frustrating that was, how maddening it was to suddenly be empty and waiting. Evan hurried to roll a condom onto his cock, ripping open the wrapper with his teeth which he knew Connor liked. 

Evan pushed Connor’s legs apart. “I think,” Evan said softly. “That the picture…” He lifted up one of Connor’s legs so that it rested on Evan’s shoulder. “Looked like this,” He said. “Right?”

“Right,” Connor said breathlessly. 

“Not uncomfortable?” Evan checked. 

“No,” Connor said. “Not at all.”

“You’re pretty flexible,” Evan said, smirking. “I should take advantage of that more.” Connor smiled, this genuine open and warm smile. And Evan loved it. He kissed Connor once more then pushed inside of Connor, moaning lowly as he did. “Fuck, Connor,” Evan said, pushing in until he was totally buried in Connor. 

“Jesus… fuck, Evan,” Connor breathed. “Fuck.”

“This alright?” Evan asked. 

“Yes,” Connor said with a frantic nod. 

“Great,” Evan said, pulling out of Connor slowly and then pushing in again, harder this time, then again, finding a rhythm between Connor’s legs, fucking him steadily and enjoying the way Connor’s face when all slack when Evan’s cock was buried inside of him. Evan stroked Connor’s cock, glad for the easy access to his boyfriend’s dick, twisting his wrist a little with each upward stroke, loving the way Connor moaned, his moaning getting louder and louder as Evan kept fucking him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Connor said, his head thrown to the side. 

“Okay,” Evan said, kissing Connor’s collarbone. “Okay. Want to try the other one?” He asked, panting a little.

“Okay,” Connor said, breathless, nodding. “Alright.”

Evan pulled out of Connor and Connor whimpered a little. Evan sat back, his legs crossed like a pretzel, grabbing the lube again and applying a little more to his dick. Connor shook his head, like he was trying to concentrate, and he straddled Evan’s hips, sinking down onto Evan’s dick and letting out a gasp. “Oh my god,” Connor rasped. 

“Fuck, Connor, you feel incredible,” Evan said softly, kissing his mouth hard. They kept kissing, their tongues tasting each other, their lips barely brushing. They rocked together, fucking, Evan buried deep in Connor’s ass and Connor reached between them, stroking himself. Evan kissed his neck, his ears, and pulled his fingers through Connor’s sweaty hair, touching him everywhere he could reach.

“I love you,” Connor panted against Evan’s lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Evan said, smiling, rolling his hips. “I love you so fucking much, you’re amazing, you feel amazing, I love you I love you I love you.”

“Fuck,” Connor said, “I… Fuck. I’m close, Evan, I’m so close.”

“Good,” Evan said, thrusting a bit harder, kissing Connor’s neck, biting his collarbone. “Come for me Connor, god, fuck, please come for me.”

And Connor did, tightening around Evan’s cock, spilling over his own hand, his moaning loud and low, his eyes closed and head thrown back. When he finished, Connor dropped his head to Evan’s shoulder, hanging on tightly as Evan fucked him a little harder, right on the edge, pushing into Connor a few more times before he came hard, his hips snapping erratically as he rode out his orgasm. 

“I love you so much,” Evan said, kissing Connor once more. He rested his forehead against Connor’s for a moment as they both caught their breath before slowly pulling out of him. He kissed Connor’s forehead, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face, then kissed his lips softly. 

“That was…” Connor said, blinking a few times. “Okay, I take back what I said about the book. It’s not stupid. The book is great.”

“Told you I liked it,” Evan said, kissing him again. “Let’s uh. Get you cleaned up.” 

Connor gently scooted back, off of Evan’s lap, and onto the bed and Evan stepped out of the room to fetch a warm washcloth. He cleaned off his own chest, then returned to Connor, wiping away the traces of his ejaculate from Connor’s chest and stomach. Evan kissed him a few more times, softly, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Connor said, sort of breathless. 

“Thank you so much,” Evan went on, “For everything this weekend. You’re amazing.”

Connor smiled. Evan pulled the blankets back up over them both, pulling Connor’s back in close to his chest and kissing his neck, his ear, his jaw, before resting his head against Connor’s bare shoulder. He’d left a bite mark there, slightly red now, and Evan kissed it softly. “You’re amazing,” He repeated. “I love you.”

Connor rolled over to face him, grinning. “So. Does that mean I win Valentine’s Day?”

Evan laughed, genuinely surprised. “Yes. You absolutely win. I love you so much.”


	28. February, Part III (Two Years After)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No matter what happens, you have to know that if the universe tries to rip us apart I won’t give up on trying to get back to you."

Zoe drops by the bookstore with coffee and donuts on Monday afternoon, just after two. “I had a last minute cancellation,” she says as she puts the donuts down in the staff kitchen, “so I figured I’d come by and see you and Edgar.” Edgar is perched on Connor’s shoulder, as is the norm, and he purrs happily as Zoe scratches under his chin. “You’re so beautiful, yes you are Edgar! Such a handsome boy.”

 

“Thanks for the donuts,” Connor says with a smile. “How’s everything going for you?”

 

“Kind of quiet,” Zoe admits. “Which is weird.” She opens the box of donuts, hands Connor a coffee and then takes a donut for herself. “I actually wanted to check in about your birthday.”

 

Connor feels this weird sinking feeling in his stomach. “What about my birthday?” he asks, trying to sound normal, because his sister doesn’t know that on his 27th birthday he and Evan died and died and died and he’d like to keep it that way.

 

“Well,” she says with a shrug, “it’s on a Friday this year. And it’s your day off, so I figured… maybe you’d want to have a party. I can help organize it if you wanted, I know you’re busy with the store.”

 

Connor feels himself tense up. “I don’t… I’m not really a party guy.”

 

Zoe frowns a little. “You had a party when you turned 27,” she points out.

 

“Andi had a party when I turned 27,” he reminds her. “It was… it was just an excuse, I barely… I barely knew anyone at that party. I don’t… I’m not really a party guy.”

 

“You’ve thrown plenty of successful parties,” Zoe insists, frowning even more. “Your holiday parties were great, you had that thing at Christmas, and the launch party when you officially took over the store, too.”

 

“The launch party was a disaster,” Connor says, wincing at the memory of how messed up he’d been and how badly he’d handled the whole thing with Evan. Honestly, he’s surprised Evan wanted to talk to him ever again after that, fuck.

 

Zoe looks sad for a moment. “The party itself was nice,” she says, her voice a bit more gentle. “I mean, it’s your choice and it’s your birthday, but…” She trails off, then shrugs a little. “I just… you have people now. People who you genuinely care about, people who would love to spend your birthday with you.” She looks at him and her face softens. “I came to your birthday party two years ago and even though I know it wasn’t exactly your scene, it was… it was really good. I’d just had this awful day and you talked to me, you really talked to me and we connected, and we’ve stayed connected ever since and I know it hasn’t been easy, but… I’d love to help you throw a party this year. So we can celebrate how far you’ve come, you know?”

 

Connor’s heart is beating really fast and he hates that his immediate reaction is to just… shut this down. To tell his sister that he doesn’t want a party, that he can’t have a party, that a birthday party is so completely off the cards. But what she’s saying is true, in a way. From her perspective, his birthday party when he turned 27, over and over again, was a turning point for them. He can see why she wants this. It makes sense, it’s just…

 

“I’ll think about it?” he says gently. “I just… I don’t know, I was planning on just spending the day with Evan. Just Evan.”

 

Zoe rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “You two are practically an old married couple. Come on, you’re still in your twenties! Live a little! Let’s have a party!”

 

“Did someone say something about a party?” asks Leslie as she comes into the staff kitchen. She grins. “Hi Zoe.”

 

“Hey Leslie.” Zoe picks up the box of donuts and holds it out to her. “Donut?”

 

“Ooh, thank you.” She takes one, then looks at Connor. “What’s this about a party? Isn’t your birthday coming up?”

 

“It’s next Friday,” Zoe tells her. “I’m trying to convince him to have a birthday party.”

 

Leslie’s eyes light up. “Ooh, you should. It’d be great. How old are you going to be?”

 

“Twenty-nine,” Zoe says before Connor can answer.

 

“I’m really not sure about this,” Connor tries to say.

 

“Just think about it,” Zoe presses, looking at him with big wide hopeful eyes. Edgar meows, as though in agreement, and Connor can’t just outright refuse, he can’t.

 

“I’ll think about it,” he says again. “But no promises.”

 

“I’ll let Jax and Maureen know!” Leslie says with a grin. “It’ll be fun.”

 

“I said I’ll think about it!” Connor exclaims. “I didn’t say yes!”

 

Zoe smiles, like it’s settled, and starts asking Leslie about how things are going with her new girlfriend, and Leslie happily talks about Camille for a while until the bell goes over the door and she heads out into the store to help a customer.

 

“I’ll buy you nice whisky,” Zoe promises. “For the party.”

 

“I still haven’t said yes.”

 

Zoe winks. “Maybe it’ll be a surprise party, then.”

 

Connor tries to argue some more but he just… can’t bring himself to disappoint his sister like this. He’ll figure out how to shut this down, he just needs some time to formulate an argument.

 

An argument that isn’t going to get him carted off to the psych ward.

 

* * *

 

The day had been grueling. Three meetings, all back to back, followed by a court hearing, then Evan had raced back uptown to the office because a client needed him to look over some documents on solar panels and it was well past three before he had enough time to take a breath and take a walk to go and get coffee.

Not for the first time since he got sick at the beginning of the year, Evan thought back to Marcia’s curiosity about whether he thought continuing to work at this firm was making him happy. He was making… fantastic money for someone still pretty fresh out of law school. He liked his coworkers.

But his hours were terrible and his schedule was maybe starting to get to him a little. He was starting to feel like if he didn’t catch a break soon he might…  He probably needed a proper break. Not just a couple of days off spent sleeping off a sickness or a weekend where he only checked his emails a few times. An actual break.

It was probably partly that the anniversary was coming up… And having told Sabrina an edited version of the truth had sort of brought a few feelings about it to the surface. He was having a difficult time just pushing through the fear that somehow, the impossible happened and he had died and died and died but now he was alive. He was scared, not only that he could begin dying again at any moment, but that something could happen to Connor, or that they’d let it get to them again and take it out on each other. He was terrified more and more as Connor’s birthday got closer and it was harder and harder to do anything but just keep his head down and try to keep busy.

Evan dragged himself to the coffee shop between his office and Zoe’s, genuinely so lost in his head and his email that he missed the barista prompting him for his order and only noticed when Zoe came up behind him and ordered for him, “large coffee with almond milk.” Evan hadn’t even noticed her until he heard her voice, and he turned to look at her apologetically, “Sorry,” He said softly. “Busy day. Thanks.”

“Of course,” She said, giving him a smile. She ordered an iced latte, even though it was totally freezing outside, shrugging at his questioning look. “I’m queer and I love iced coffee, year round.” As they moved to the end of the bar to wait for their drinks, Zoe smiled at Evan again, saying, “I was actually hoping I might bump into you. I wanted to talk to you about Connor’s birthday party.”

Evan felt like he might be hearing her from underwater. “P-party?” He said.

“Yeah, I mean, he keeps saying he’s not a party guy but, you know, he’s totally full of it. And we could do it that weekend, you know? Something kind of small, but fun, you know? I’ll get some fancy whiskey, and Leslie already said she and the other bookstore kids would be happy to help set up. I think it would be a good time. All we need is the guest of honor, and that’s where you come in. I bet you could convince him.”

Evan blinked and blinked, trying to wake himself up only to realize to his absolute horror that he was wide awake and Zoe was seriously trying to recruit him to convince Connor to have a birthday party. Evan tried to smile and shake his head at once, producing some kind of spastic tick instead, and he mumbled something incoherent about how if Connor didn’t want a party, they shouldn’t try to force him.

Evan knew it wasn’t logical to blame a birthday party for what happened to him. He knew the fact that Andi invited people over probably wasn’t the reason he and Connor had died together but… But. Last year? No party. And they came out of the day without dying even once. Not having a party felt safer, based on the options.

Also that party had been a huge source of stress for Evan, which of course Zoe wouldn’t know because she wouldn’t remember them meeting again and again at said party, wouldn’t remember him being all flustered and embarrassed when she brought up Sabrina’s engagement…

“I’m not saying we like, tie him up and force him to attend a party in his honor,” Zoe said, rolling her eyes. “But maybe you could gently nudge him into acting less like an old man?”

“I…” Evan stared at her, knowing his face was probably giving too much away, feeling suddenly shaky and unsteady and fragile. “I’ll do my best, I guess?”

“You okay?” Zoe said, looking Concerned. “Weren’t you sick a few weeks ago?”

“I’m fine,” Evan squeaked. “I’m totally fine, just-just-just a really long and intense day. Sorry.” His coffee appeared at the end of the bar. “I’ll… I’ll talk to Connor, yeah? Th-thanks for mentioning it okay? I’ll talk to him.” He grabbed his coffee, hurrying out of the cafe without even putting his gloves on, even though it was bitterly cold, his hands red and freezing by the time he got back to the office. Once inside, Evan pressed the button for the elevator, trying not to think about the other elevator that had defined his life to an extent, the one that crashed and killed him and Connor and his heart did a funny little flip when the car got to the fifteenth floor, settled once he was able to safely step off of the elevator and retreat to his office where he closed the door and turned on some chill vibes Spotify playlist to distract himself.

Evan threw himself into working. He looked over the solar panel thing, sent back his notes. Helped Mariah unjam the copier and had an awkward conversation with Jonathan about whether the firm ought to reconsider what toilet paper they stocked in the bathroom which wasn’t something Evan thought he should have a say in deciding. Then he dropped by Asher’s office, and Asher reminded him that the last weekend in March they were all going to get measured for tuxes for his wedding, and Evan nodded and put it on his calendar and he was almost, almost distracted enough not to keep worrying about whether or not he might die on Connor’s birthday this year.

Part of Evan was still so sure, so certain that the reason they kept dying was his fault. If he hadn’t thrown himself off of his roof, then Connor would have been safe from the loops. And then there was another, sadder and softer and more vulnerable part of him that was… grateful. Grateful that that horrible, twisted thing had brought Connor into his life. And that also terrified him. Because he… he was so lucky to have Connor. He couldn’t imagine where he would be without Connor, and he just loved him so much. He owed everything to that February night when he threw himself off of the roof, and that scared him. It scared him to think that he owed everything good in his life right now to hitting the lowest possible point and surviving it.

He wasn’t grateful for the circumstances that led him to jumping off his roof, to killing himself. He wasn’t grateful that he had died so many times he genuinely wasn’t sure how many times he’d actually sat the bar. He wasn’t grateful to have watched the love of his life die in front of him, even if he didn’t yet know how important Connor would become.

But he was grateful that he had Connor now, grateful Connor had saved him, grateful to have found someone who cared so much and so deeply and who loved him, loved Evan, even when Evan didn’t always think he deserved to be loved.

He went over to Connor’s after he finished work for the day.

“Hey,” Connor greeted him with a kiss.

Evan pulled him into a tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Connor said with a smile. “You okay?”

Evan nodded. Because really, he was. He was fine. He would be fine. He refused to not be fine.  “Yeah. It’s… just. February.”

“Yeah,” Connor said, nodding.

“I bumped into Zoe today,” Evan said, trying to keep his tone casual. “She uh. She seems to think you’re having a birthday party?”

“Shit,” Connor said, his face falling. “I… Look I didn’t want to totally shut her down because, like, she was excited about the idea of a party but. No. I’m… I can’t. I don’t think I could deal with that.”

Evan nodded, relieved. But also guilty. Because he felt like maybe Connor was saying no for his sake, and he hated that. “If you wanted to have one…”

“I don’t. I’m not even a party person.”

“That’s not true,” Evan said softly. “You’ve thrown parties. And had fun at them.”

“I don’t want one,” Connor said, his voice firm. “I don’t. I just didn’t know how to tell Zoe.”

Evan nodded. “I… I hate that it happened on your birthday,” he said. “You shouldn’t… birthdays are supposed to be nice.”

Connor smiled a little. “Last year I had to basically drag you out of your office to celebrate yours. And I’m pretty sure you still never told your roommates exactly when it is.”

Evan felt his face flush a little. “ _Your_ birthday should be nice. Because you deserve a nice birthday. Not one that’s full of deaths and mental health crises and Alana Beck’s face on buses.”

“Last year was pretty good.”

Evan shook his head. “We watched _Iron Man_ and didn’t get out of bed because we were scared we might die.”

“But you got me _A Wrinkle in Time!_ And I got to spend the whole day with you, just the two of us. And nobody died. It ended up being pretty nice, really, all things considered.”

“Yeah, the threat of death added a certain level of spiciness to it,” Evan said drily.

Connor fixed him with a serious look. “I don’t want to have a party. Honestly. I think being around other people would be… too much, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll talk to Zoe so she doesn’t bug you about it again.”

 

* * *

 

It isn’t often that Connor goes to visit Zoe at work, but he’s done it enough times that the receptionist knows who he is. She tells him that Zoe’s between clients so should be free and gestures down the hallway to Zoe’s office.

 

He knocks on the door gently and she opens it, looking surprised to see him.

 

“I brought tacos,” Connor says, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. “Extra guacamole.”

 

“That sounds amazing,” Zoe replies immediately, ushering him in.

 

He hasn’t done this before - just showing up with food for Zoe. He’s done it for Evan a million times, but because Zoe’s schedule can’t really be predicted, it’s a little harder.

 

If he’s being brutally honest with himself, he kind of hoped she’d be busy and he could just leave the tacos at the front desk for her to heat up later or something.

 

They end up sitting on the floor in beanbags, dividing up the food between them. It’s a little weird seeing Zoe in her professional slacks and blazer combination sitting in a beanbag on the floor, but she settles in comfortably like she does it all the time, and for all Connor knows she might. She is a child psychologist, after all.

 

“So,” says Zoe after a moment, shrugging off her blazer and setting a napkin on her lap to avoid any spills, “you’re here to tell me you’re not having a party, aren’t you?”

 

Connor sighs. “I’m not having a party.”

 

Zoe nods. Looks at her taco. “I saw Evan at the cafe yesterday and mentioned it and he seemed completely freaked out at the idea,” she says, her brows knitting together in a frown. “And that made me think about your 27th birthday.” She looks up at Connor and she just looks so incredibly sad, her eyes wide and concerned. “You left the party to check on Evan because you were worried about him. And a few months later you told me that he’d… that you’d had to talk him down. I didn’t connect them until now, but… it was on your birthday, wasn’t it? That’s why you don’t want to have a party - it’s a painful anniversary for you two.”

 

Connor’s heart hurts, physically hurts in his chest like someone has stabbed him.

 

“Yeah,” he manages to choke out, even though he feels like he’s been stabbed, despite the lack of firsthand experience to compare it to. He thinks it’s probably a little like being crushed by a bus, like being crushed in an elevator, like coughing up a razor blade. “It was… yeah.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Zoe says, her voice small. “I… I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

 

“Evan didn’t know it was my birthday,” Connor feels compelled to explain. Even though he can’t explain what really happened, he just… he can’t let Zoe think that Evan knew it was Connor’s birthday, because it had nothing to do with Connor at all. “He didn’t… we’d only just… we’d seen each other around because we went to the same liquor store, and I could tell he wasn’t doing good but we weren’t… we weren’t friends immediately, it was… I just had a feeling, you know? So I… I just had a feeling. I don’t… I don’t…”

 

He blinks a few times.

 

His eyes are stinging painfully.

 

Connor pictures Evan on the roof two years ago, pale face and hollow laugh, shaking but grimly determined.

 

 _If it’s not tonight, then when? It has to happen, because I can’t keep waiting for it. This is just delaying the inevitable, it was always going to be like this. I am_ always _going to be like this._

 

Connor pictures Evan, dangerously drunk in Connor’s old apartment two summers ago.

 

_Do you think there’s a parallel universe where I died when I was supposed to and I’m just… done? I’m done, and I don’t have to feel like this anymore?_

 

Connor pictures Evan, in bed with walking pneumonia just last month, scared and sick and shaking.

 

 _I’m not enough, I’ll never be enough and you’ll hate me, you’ll get sick of me, you’ll resent me because I’m never going to not be like this, I am_ always _going to be like this._

 

“Fuck,” Connor mutters, wiping his eyes, because he is not having a meltdown in his sister’s workplace. Even if she is a psychologist who’s probably used to it.

 

Zoe reaches out to grab Connor’s hand and squeezes it tightly. Neither of them say anything for a while.

 

It’s Zoe who breaks the silence.

 

“December 3rd,” she says softly. “That’s the day that you… that’s the day I found you, back in high school.”

 

Connor feels cold. He hadn’t known the date.

 

Well, he’d known, but he’d… intentionally not known. Pushed it out of his mind.

 

Just another unpleasant thing he’d told himself he didn’t remember.

 

Like Richard’s husband’s name.

 

“I’m sorry,” Connor manages to choke out.

 

“I know,” she replies immediately, squeezing his hand harder. She laughs a little, but it’s hollow and sharp. “I skipped school on December 3rd the next year. The whole day. Even though you were in New York, I just… I skipped school, and I kept the door to that bathroom open, just so I could be sure you weren’t still there.” Connor looks at her, and her face is blotchy and her mascara is starting to smudge a little, her eyelashes damp. “I know that sounds stupid, and logically it-”

 

“It’s not stupid,” Connor interrupts firmly. “It’s… I’m so sorry, Zoe.”

 

“You won’t remember this,” says Zoe, and something cold grabs Connor’s stomach because he remembers this conversation, even though they’ve never had it. “But in the ambulance, I thought I lost you. I came with you and you stopped breathing and they hooked you up to a machine and I was so fucking scared.”

 

“I’m sorry,” says Connor.

 

Because he’s had this conversation before.

 

Because he knows it’s his line.

 

Because he means it, more than he can ever truly express.

 

There’s a ringing in his head, like he’s taken a bite of aluminum foil.

 

“And the paramedic said that you were strong,” Zoe continues. “That you were a fighter. And it just made me think that... all we ever did was fight.” She looks at him, and her eyes soften. “And for the longest time, that was all we did. All we ever did.” Her voice gets stronger as she keeps going. “But that’s not us anymore, Connor. And I’m so fucking happy you’re here. I’m happy you’re here, and I’m happy Evan’s here, and I’m happy the two of you have each other and I’m happy that I have both of you.”

 

“Me too,” says Connor, the ringing in his head fading into nothing, something unclenching in his stomach.

 

They’ve gone off-script.

 

He pulls his sister into a hug and she hugs him back. Her hugs are still amazing, like stepping into a warm bath at the perfect temperature, or holding a mug of peppermint tea.

 

Only now, it’s not a surprise. Now he knows what to expect.

 

When they finally pull apart, Zoe expertly wipes the mascara tracks off her face with a napkin and Connor takes a moment to wipe his own eyes as well. When he’s done, he tucks his hair behind his ear and he sees Zoe doing the same thing out of the corner of his eye, in the exact same action.

 

It’s only when they’re finishing up their tacos that Zoe speaks again.

 

“Last year on December 3rd,” she says, her voice deceptively light, “I had a dentist appointment.” She smiles a little. “I only know because I saw it in my planner the other day when I was trying to figure out when I next have to get a cleaning.” She shrugs. “I won’t… I won’t forget the date, but it’s not as painful now. It’s just a day.” She looks at Connor, her expression soft. “Eventually, your birthday will just be your birthday, Connor. Give it time.”

 

* * *

 

The closer it got to Connor’s birthday, the more tightly wound and scared Evan started to feel. The edited version of events that he had told Marcia - that two years ago he had attempted suicide and now he’d sort of ruined Connor’s birthday - had produced a conversation about trauma and anniversaries and how healing took time and that was all well and good but it did nothing to assuage Evan’s fears.

He was scared.

And his fucking brain wasn’t helping.

He had a lot of nightmares as the month drew to its close. Nightmares about jumping, about razor blades and bathtubs full of blood and Connor looking too pale too tired too thin this summer, nightmares about letting go of a tree branch, nightmares where Connor looked at him blankly in a liquor store and went on to be hit by a bus, still holding an expensive bottle of whisky in his hand, the liquor spreading across the pavement of the road, mingling with the pooling blood.  

It wasn’t quite as bad as it had been when he was sick but it was definitely impacting Evan’s sleep schedule for sure.

He was scared he might wake up back in his bathroom two years ago, scared he could find himself in the middle of the bar and almost powerless against his own suicidal thoughts, but most of all he was scared he could wake up and find himself in a world where he and Connor didn’t know each other.

The last loop, the one where Evan pulled Connor out of the path of a bus with Alana Beck’s face on it, where he stopped Connor from dying was his biggest fear. Because the moments leading up to that, their interaction in the liquor store where Evan looked into Connor’s eyes and knew Connor had no idea who he was or what he wanted…

He didn’t think his heart could take it.

Evan didn’t think he could stand that vacant look on his boyfriend’s face, to see the face of someone he cared about so deeply without so much as a flicker of recognition… Evan couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take it, and it was eating at him in the days leading up to Connor’s birthday.

It hurt Evan a lot to know that Connor’s birthday couldn’t just be his birthday. He wished he could just do sweet things for Connor, he wished he could lavish him with gifts and sex and food and just take the day to be happy and together. But Connor’s birthday was still the day they died (and died and died and died and died), and nothing could take away the breathless fear that Connor might wake up on his twenty-ninth birthday and die later that day. Or that he might wake up and not know who Evan was anymore.

If Connor didn’t know him anymore… it would break Evan’s heart. It would hurt so badly Evan wasn’t sure he would survive it. If Connor woke up and didn’t know him…

Evan wasn’t sure what he would do.

He’d save his life, of course, if they woke up and it was two years ago again but…

The thought of standing in front of Connor, of loving him so much but it not really being _his_ Connor, the one he knew… It was unbearable.

As the day got closer, Evan stuck closer to Connor. Stayed at his apartment more often. Connor obviously picked up on the tension radiating off of Evan and kept doing sweet, thoughtful things to try to make it better, like insisting on watching the _Ant-Man_ films and legitimately packing Evan lunch one day to take to work with him.

And Evan appreciated it. He loved it.

But he was fucking terrified and no movies or lunches or soft words could make so much as a dent in that fear.

“It didn’t happen last year,” Connor said, his voice soft and annoyingly reasonable as Evan chewed his fingernails, knowing he seemed crazy, knowing he sounded like a maniac who kept repeating himself but not being able to stop it.

“But… But it happened. The fact that it happened at all is impossible. But it happened so we don’t know it won’t happen again.”

“I don’t think it’ll happen again. It was… it was a fluke or something. A one-time thing.”

“That happened twenty times,” Evan said. “And then the last time around… when you didn’t know me and I didn’t know you? What if that happens again, what if -?”

Connor kissed him, probably to shut him up. “It won’t.”

“But if it does.”

Connor smiled at him, this big goofy smile and took his hand. “Well if I end up in the universe where you don’t know me, I won’t rest until I’ve saved your life and tricked you into falling in love with me.”

Evan tried to smile back. Tried to see how that was sweet of Connor, how it was charming and adorable and kind, but all he could imagine was how unfair it was that this other-timeline version of himself got Connor and he would be alone. “I… I. That’s nice of you to say but. But what about me?”

Connor looked confused. “What about you?”

“Well, while you’re off being in love with Other Evan what am I supposed to do?” He started picking at his fingers.

“Wouldn’t you… just find the other me?”

“But that you wouldn’t know me… He’d only know me from high school? I would still be the weird kid with the letter.”

“I told you… That letter. It meant something to me.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t exactly like you wanted to volunteer that information the moment you

and I ran into each other again, right?” Evan said. “You thought I was Richard’s husband. In the last loop. You had no idea who I was.”

Connor looked lost, like he wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Evan said. “Because you didn’t _know me.”_ He shook his head. “If we ended up back there. You wouldn’t know me. We wouldn’t be the same. Other you might not like me.”

“Of course I’d like you,” Connor said. “I love you.”

“ _This_ version of you loves me,” Evan said, trying to make Connor understand. “We have history and time together and we were friends for a long time before we admitted our feelings _and_ both of us died a bunch. It wouldn’t be the same.”

“Evan, come on, that’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that!” Evan yelped, his heart pounding too hard because every time Connor said it wouldn’t happen he became more certain that it would. “We don’t know what’s going to happen! If you end up in another timeline, _you’ll_ be fine. You and the other me can go fall in love and do it right this time, but what about me? If you’re gone, I’m going to end up alone!”

“Evan -”

“I don’t want to end up all by myself, Connor, I don’t know if I can do that again I don’t think I could -”

Connor took his hand and squeezed it, “Evan. Please.”

Evan swallowed hard, using his free hand to wipe at his eyes.

“Okay,” Connor said, his voice light, like he was making dinner plans or something. “So, I’ll save Alternate Timeline you and then find myself a quantum physicist and make them find a way back to _you-_ you.”

Evan laughed but he was pretty sure he was actually just crying. Connor was trying to hard to lighten the mood, to make him feel better, but it wasn’t working and Evan hated that he couldn’t just… let it work. That Connor being charming and lovely and adorably goofy couldn’t quell this fear. “I love you but you know nothing about quantum physics.”

“Neither do you,” Connor said, kissing his cheek. “But maybe I’ll go all Ant-Man and travel through subatomic particles or something. I’ll hire a guy or as many guys as it takes. I’ve got money I can throw at this. Especially if I don’t have a mortgage yet.”

“Connor, be serious,” Evan said desperately. “If we get separated -”

“We won’t,” Connor said softly.

“You don’t know that!” Evan said, pleaded. “If we get separated… I need you to know that I love you. I love you more than anything. You mean the world to me, and I can’t… If anything happens I couldn’t live with it if you didn’t know. You are the love of my life, Connor. If anything happens to keep us apart, I need you to know that. I need you to know.”

Connor’s smile turned into something more serious. “Evan, I don’t think the universe would have gone to all that trouble to get us to reconnect to separate us again.”

“We don’t know that the universe wants! We don’t know anything about why it happened at all!” He was crying again, and he hated it, he wanted to hide it away because he didn’t want to be falling apart right now.

“But you… Before the last loop you said, you said that you thought that we were supposed to fix things, get a do-over -”

“I had no idea what I was talking about,” Evan said, shaking his head. “I pulled that theory together out of nothing because I had to believe we could find a way to stop dying. I was desperate and grasping at straws to try to make sense of an impossible situation.”

“And you were right!”

“But what if I wasn’t?” Evan said, tears escaping faster now, hot and shameful, burning his cheeks. “What if we just got lucky? What if that was the fluke? What if I lose you, Connor? What am I supposed to do then?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Connor said as he pulled Evan to him, his arms wrapped around him tightly, holding him, kissing his temple. “I refuse to go anywhere without you, okay? I’m… fueled by caffeine and spite and I won’t let the universe take me okay? I love you.” He took hold of Evan’s hands to keep him from picking at his fingers. “I _love_ you.”

“I love you too,” Evan said softly.

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“But what if I _do_?”

“No matter what happens, you have to know that if the universe tries to rip us apart I won’t give up on trying to get back to you. Okay? I won’t let that happen. I love you so much.” He kissed the side of Evan’s head. “You’re the love of my life too, Evan. You mean everything to me. I would… It would break my heart if we were separated.” He kissed Evan’s cheek.

They sat there for a while, until Evan stopped crying, until he caught his breath and wiped his eyes. Connor cleared his throat then.  “Last year… Last year I was so beyond scared it would happen again. Remember how we had that stupid argument and didn’t talk for a couple of days?”

Evan recalled that vividly. “Yes.” He frowned, thinking back. “That… I hated that.”

“I hated it too,” Connor said. “That morning when I woke up at Margot and Eddie’s place, when I realized I’d lost a whole day? I was worried sick… That something might have happened to you while I was dicking around with them. And then we fought more and you were pissed that I was out of contact, and I was pissed that you were pissed… I just kept thinking about how if there was a world where we didn’t know each other, there was probably a world where we just… Didn’t make it out of the loops. Where we died and stayed dead that first night and… Fuck, it scared the shit out of me to think about that, Evan. To think of the possibilities because something insane happened to us and there was no way of knowing it wouldn’t happen again.” He pushed a hand through Evan’s hair gently, his hand settling warm and solid against the back of Evan’s neck. “But I don’t think it’s going to happen again. I really don’t.”

Evan wanted to push and press and demand that they make a plan for if it did, if it happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to shake Connor’s confidence that everything would be okay. Last year he had been Connor’s rock… this year he supposed he had to let Connor be his.

“Okay.”

“And if… if something does,” Connor said, his voice soft but strong and clear. “We’ll fight it. We’ll make our way back to each other, okay?”

Evan nodded. He pulled Connor in for a kiss, soft and slow, his hand cupping the side of Connor’s face because he was so so precious, so damn important…

When they broke apart, Connor pressed a kiss to Evan’s temple. “So… I’m… I’m really the love of your life?” He sounded like he was trying to be casual but Evan saw right through it.

“Without a doubt,” Evan said because he meant it, because it was true, because it was the truest thing he knew. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than I thought it was possible to love someone.”

Connor gave him this smile that made Evan’s insides ache, made his heart feel warm and heavy and safe. “You know you’re the love of my life too, right? I wasn’t just saying that. I meant it.”

Evan smiled at him. “I know.”

“It feels kind of stupid that we were both so damn nervous about Valentine’s Day now.”

Evan laughed, surprised. “Yeah, in retrospect. We can be kind of stupid.”

 

* * *

 

While it’s tempting to just stay inside with Evan and hide until March, Connor knows that’s not a great idea for either of them. On Friday night, a week before his birthday, he manages to convince Evan to come out with him to see a play that Andi had done the set design for.

 

“Worst case scenario, it’s boring and we leave,” Connor says in his attempt to convince him. “Best case scenario, it’s Time-ku levels of terrible and we have an amazingly weird time.”

 

Evan doesn’t seem particularly convinced but he does agree to come out, which Connor takes as a victory. He thinks it’s important that they actually try to get out, get amongst people, not isolate themselves completely.

 

There’s been too much isolation in both of their lives.

 

They head to Tipsy McStagger’s for dinner after Connor closes the store, as the play is once again a late night event. The pub is quiet for a Friday night, which is a little eerie but nice in that they can hear themselves think, they can have a conversation.

 

They drink spiced rum and talk about their days quietly, sitting next to each other in a tiny table in the corner until it gets closer to the play’s opening time, then grab a cab across town to a freezing cold theatre that’s falling apart.

 

“This is very bohemian,” Evan comments as they make their way inside, neither of them daring to take off their coats, hats or scarves.

 

“Freezing to death is extremely bohemian,” Connor agrees, looking around for the bar. There’s _got_ to be a bar.

 

“You made it!” calls out a loud voice from across the room. Connor looks over to see Andi approaching, bundled up in a very, very long scarf, a hat perched on her bright red hair. She gives them both huge hugs, then drags them into a corner where there is, indeed, a bar, and the three of them have tequila shots for warmth.

 

“Okay, so tell us about this show,” Evan says to Andi, cheeks pink from the cold. “Is it more or less weird than Time-ku?”

 

“Weird is relative,” Andi says with the air of someone who is dispensing wisdom. “But I think… less. Honestly, this is kinda… I don’t know. It’s supposed to be all gritty and realistic but I made a giant rubber chicken for it, so all bets are off.”

 

“A giant rubber chicken?” Connor echoes.

 

“It’s a serious rubber chicken,” Andi informs them. “I painted it in sepia tones. That gives it… gravitas. Whatever. I don’t know.”

 

“This doesn’t tell me anything about this play,” Evan points out.

 

“It’s about the apocalypse,” Andi says. “I think. I don’t know.”

 

“Well, what’s it called?”

 

“Untitled #4.”

 

Connor barely contains a laugh. “Seriously?”

 

“Seriously,” Andi says, and she doesn’t even bother trying not to laugh. “New York theatre is weird, dude.”

 

They find a seat near the middle of the theatre, then move when they realize it’s under an actual hole in the roof. There aren’t many people in attendance, probably because it’s midnight and it’s fucking freezing, but the show thankfully starts on time and Connor finds himself absolutely lost as to what the fuck is going on.

 

There’s the giant chicken, and a lot of people in stereotypical bondage gear, and there’s a cardboard cut out of a tank, but at the same time there’s a constant barrage of glitter confetti “snow” and a lot of talk about nuclear winter. In the corner is a guy playing a violin wearing tights and legwarmers and a Ronald McDonald wig, and just before the end of the first act, there’s a scene where two characters Connor was genuinely convinced were parent and child start making out in front of a large projection of the moon.

 

As soon as the intermission starts, Connor and Evan both head back to the bar and get another round of tequila shots for warmth, because it’s so, so, so fucking cold.

 

They’ve both done a shot each when someone taps Connor on the shoulder. He turns around and finds himself face to face with Margot and Eddie.

 

He feels his stomach swoop uncomfortably. He genuinely hasn’t talked to either of them in a year.

 

“Thought that was you,” Margot says matter-of-factly, pulling Connor into a too-tight hug. “How have you been, man?”

 

“Good,” he says, not sure what else to say. Eddie hugs him, then both Margot and Eddie look at Evan.

 

Evan’s standing there, looking a little shell-shocked and more than a little wary.

 

He’s met Margot and Eddie, of course… but they haven’t met him.

 

“This is my boyfriend Evan,” Connor says, gesturing to Evan with a smile he hopes doesn’t look too forced. “Evan, this is Margot and Eddie.”

 

“Boyfriend?” says Eddie loudly, looking at Margot and laughing. “Wow. Never thought I’d see the day.”

 

“We’d figured Connor was anti-commitment,” Margot says with a laugh of her own. “Boyfriend. Wow. Okay, tell us about yourself, boyfriend.”

 

“Evan’s an environmental lawyer,” Connor says, wrapping his arm around Evan gently. Possessively, almost.

 

He’s… not loving this, to be honest.

 

Seeing Margot and Eddie again after a year, after what happened the last time they hung out, it’s…

 

Well, it’s like taking a long look back into the past and realizing that, wow, he used to be kind of an asshole.

 

“Good to hook up with a lawyer,” says Eddie, rolling a joint. “He should be able to keep you out of trouble.” He lights up, then takes a hit and offers it to Connor, who shakes his head.

 

“Do you guys know someone in the play?” Evan asks, his voice full of forced politeness.

 

Margot nods. “Yeah, one of my friends from the Masters program. She’s, uh… I don’t know which one she is, all the costumes are fucked up. But she said she’d hook me up with a good price on coke if I came along, she’s trying to move it.” She grins at Connor. “You in? Looks like you and your boytoy could stand to loosen up a little.”

 

“No thanks,” Connor says immediately.

 

“Could have told you he wouldn’t be interested,” Eddie says, rolling their eyes. “No one’s seen him picking up in months.” They pause, frowning a little. “Maybe years now. I don’t fucking know.”

 

“Not my scene anymore,” Connor says, trying not to make it sound like it’s a big deal.

 

“Oh yeah,” Margot says, taking another hit off Eddie’s joint. “You bought a house? That’s hardcore.”

 

“I bought a bookstore.”

 

“That’s cool, man,” says Eddie, nodding a little. Margot and Eddie exchange a glance, and Margot hands Eddie a small bag of… something. They wave at Connor a little awkwardly. “Okay, well, we gotta go, but good to see you. Good luck with the house.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Alan,” says Margot, smiling a little. She nods and the two of them head off, leaving Connor feeling completely off kilter.

 

He and Evan stand there for what feels like a long time.

 

“So,” says Evan, his voice a little shaky. “You haven’t seen them in a while, huh?”

 

Connor shakes his head. “Not for a year. Not since… you know.”

 

Evan sighs. “I know.”

 

Connor swallows hard. “I… maybe we should just go home.”

 

“Yeah, maybe.”

 

They don’t say much on the trip home. It’s not until they’re at Connor’s apartment, safely tucked up in Connor’s bed with Edgar at the foot, curled up protectively, that Connor finally feels settled enough to say something.

 

“I was a different person back then.”

 

Evan shifts a little and turns to face Connor. “We both were,” he says softly.

 

“I… it’s weird to see that,” Connor confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. “To see Margot and Eddie, how they haven’t changed and how I wasn’t… I wasn’t exactly like them, sure, but we had things in common. It was like… we weren’t friends, really, we were just people with shared interests.” He swallows hard. “I can see now that we weren’t friends. Not really.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Connor tries to explain. “I just… it’s weird. It’s just… I didn’t like seeing them. That makes me sound like such a dick, fuck.”

 

“I don’t think it does,” says Evan, his voice gentle. “It’s just… it’s different.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“We’re both different.”

 

“I’m better,” Connor says instantly. “I’m… I like myself a lot more than I did back then. I think that’s… well, it’s something, right?”

 

“It is,” Evan replies, his voice still so quiet in the night. “I know what you mean. I like myself more, too.” He kisses Connor gently. “And I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

In the week leading up to Connor’s birthday, Evan basically moved into his apartment. It was a safe place, in his mind, because neither of them had ever died there. And the same couldn’t be said for Evan’s apartment with Alex and Mattie (both of whom kept making jokes whenever they saw Evan about how they were going to have to put another ad on Craigslist for a roommate because he was so obviously going to move in with Connor and that made him embarrassed because they had not discussed that and Evan wasn’t sure he was ready for that).

Connor’s apartment was a safe, death-free zone, so Evan stayed there in the week leading up to Connor’s birthday. It was a bit closer to his work, which was kind of nice. Also this year he didn’t force himself to sleep on the sofa because he was scared he would overwhelm Connor with his presence and also the fact that he was totally in love with him and really moody about it.

Staying with Connor helped to calm some of Evan’s worst fears, fears like Connor might blink out of existence like the mirrors and the furniture. Fears like Connor would be talking to a customer and suddenly be spitting blood onto the floor of the bookstore or get taken out by a bus while crossing the street or trip down the stairs… It was easier if he could see Connor. Watch him, touch him, know without a doubt that he was safe and real and there. Staying there made sense.

Plus, Evan suspected it made Connor feel better too, if his relieved smiles and tight embraces at the end of most working days were anything to go on. When Connor closed up the store, Evan often hung around, helping with small tasks like straightening out displays or helping to balance the till, the pair of them talking through their days. Connor would interrupt and interject that Evan shouldn’t be helping, that it was Connor’s job to run the store, but Evan didn’t mind. If he helped Connor with the last few closing tasks, it meant he got to spend time with him upstairs faster. Not even to have sex or anything like that. Just so he and Connor could, like, eat dinner or watch something curled up in bed.

To put it plainly, Evan felt a bit like he was in the process of having a very slow motion mental breakdown, made worse by the fact that everyone else seemed to know he was having one. Mariah at work knew something was up, and kept pulling him out of the office to go get coffee so she could lecture him on trying to get more sleep because “dude, you look like a zombie, no offense.”

Sabrina was sort of driving him up the wall as well. Not that she was doing anything wrong, exactly, she was just. Trying very hard to check up on him without seeming like she was checking up on him. Like she just… showed up at Connor’s apartment last week, unannounced, with Graham in tow when Evan was still in his pajamas and said she felt like brunch and was “in the neighborhood.”

Evan had stared at her for a long moment. “How did you even know I was here?” He said.

“You’re always here,” She said, too perky and too smiley because she was clearly here making sure he wasn’t dead. “It’s Saturday.”

Evan looked hesitantly over at Connor, standing there in his sweats with his hair up, shrugging. “I could eat,” he said like it was no big deal which just.

What.

Things only got weirder when Connor invited Sabrina and Graham inside, giving them a quick tour of his place while Evan hurried to Connor’s bedroom to change into actual people clothes. When he emerged, wearing jeans and a hoodie, Sabrina was fawning over Edgar Allan Paw and Graham was awkwardly telling Connor how he really liked Pablo Neruda, like he had practiced that factoid to share on his way over or something.

“Hold that thought,” Connor said, smiling. “I’m just going to throw on some real pants, okay?”

Evan sort of looked around helplessly at his ex-girlfriend and her fiance standing in Connor’s apartment, unsure what to say or do.

“How’s work going for you?” Graham asked suddenly. “I saw your name in the Times the other day.”

Evan blinked, surprised. “Oh. Yeah. They did a small write up on a solar panel case I’m on.”

“Sounds like it’s kind of a big deal,” Graham said, sounding impressed.

“Uh. I guess? We’ve got a pretty solid case.”

“Evan’s just kicking ass and taking names as always,” Sabrina said, rubbing Edgar’s belly. “Isn’t that right, beautiful? Your dad’s doing important stuff these days.”

“I’m… He’s Connor’s cat,” Evan said awkwardly.

“He’s Edgar’s other dad,” Connor said, emerging from his room in a red sweater Evan knew was super soft from all of the times he had held him, touched him, or pulled the sweater off of Connor. “He’s just got commitment issues.”

Evan opened his mouth to protest but Sabrina laughed. “That sounds about right.”

Evan felt his face heat up. He suddenly regretted that Connor and Sabrina seemed to have come to an agreement not to hate each other.

“Ready to go?” Connor asked.

“Yeah,” Evan said, distracted. “Brunch. Right.” Evan grabbed his jacket, hat and gloves, and Connor did the same, bundling up against the February chill.

The four of them trooped down the stairs, Edgar racing ahead of them to leap into the sunshine spot and curl into a ball. Evan sort of wanted to stay with the cat, because he feared that this brunch would be painful and awkward and he sort of didn’t want to leave Connor’s apartment if he could avoid it because leaving the apartment meant the risk of falling into an open manhole or sidewalk cellar, the potential of being hit by a bus or a potted plant falling from the sky. Leaving the apartment meant walking past the liquor store on their way to the restaurant for brunch, the liquor store where they met that first night but didn’t realize.

Evan looked carefully at his feet, making sure his steps were on solid ground, that he wasn’t about to trip over uneven pavement, and Connor seemed to notice. He reached out, taking Evan’s gloved hand in his, squeezing it tightly.

“You okay?” Connor said softly.

“Fine,” Evan said.

Connor’s face fell a little, and he squeezed Evan’s hand tightly. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Evan nodded, because sure, _today_ he was okay.

Once they were tucked inside of the warm brunch spot, Evan stared at the menu helplessly, wishing he had been warned ahead of time that he was going to be coming, he might have looked it over ahead of time, he might have figured what he might pick.

“Oh, they’ve got French Toast,” Connor said softly.

Evan smiled, uncomfortable, and nodded, silently thanking Connor for picking up on his nerves. He was picking at his cuticles under the table and then Connor reached over, taking Evan’s hand, squeezing it gently and not letting go.

“I think we ought to get a round of mimosas,” Sabrina said, smiling brightly. “What do you think?”

“Sounds good.”

“I’m in,” Connor said. “Evan?”

He nodded, trying hard to smile and everything about this reminded him of that first drinks outing the four of them had gone on, the drinks outing which had gone so badly but also made Evan realize he was totally and completely in love with Connor.

He hated that being out of Connor’s apartment made him so anxious. That seeing Sabrina made him feel like she and Graham had been talking about him behind his back, like she had maybe told Graham about his suicide attempt, and both of them thought he was some kind of pathetic sad sack, and now they had planned, as a couple, to go and check on him to make sure he didn’t wreck their wedding this summer by dying or something.

He knew that was just his fucking brain giving him the worst possible reasoning for this brunch. Sabrina probably _was_ worried about him, she probably _did_ talk it over with Graham and agreed that grabbing brunch was a low-key way to check up on him without being too overbearing or weird, she had probably claimed her psychic abilities and said she was worried about Evan. It wasn’t a bad thing, but he still felt like he should be embarrassed.

“So, how’s your class been since the start of the new year?” Evan asked Sabrina, trying to push through his anxious thoughts racing, his paranoia and worst case scenarios.

Sabrina smiled, telling them all about the Valentine’s Day debacle that happened in her class over some heart-shaped lollipops and three girls who all liked the same boy that resulted in notes home to the entire class.

“Wow,” Connor said, “Fourth grade sounds tough these days.”

“Fourth grade wasn’t a picnic when we were kids either,” Sabrina said. “I missed out on your cool Harry Potter party that year because my best friend at the time told me I was too fat to eat cake and I stayed in crying all weekend. Kids can be awful.”

“I didn’t know that,” Evan said suddenly. “About fourth grade.”

Sabrina shrugged. “I mean, it was a million years ago. And Ella moved away the next year. It wasn’t like she tormented me all through school or whatever.”

“You should have come to the party anyways,” Connor said. “You could have hung out in the corner with Evan and I. We spent the whole party reading.”

“Seriously?” Graham said, smiling. “You two hung out on your birthday that long ago?”

“Yeah,” Evan said, finding his voice. “Here.” He pulled out his phone, pulling up the digital copy of him and Connor in their Harry Potter costumes from the birthday party nineteen years ago. “I was super nervous to go.”

“Aww, look at how cute you guys are!” Sabrina said, smiling. “Fucking Ella. I could have been the Hermione, made you into a proper golden trio.”

“Which one of you is Ron though?” Graham asked, grinning.

“Me,” Evan said at the same moment that Connor said, “Oh definitely Evan.”

They grinned at each other, a little embarrassed, and both Graham and Sabrina smiled at them.

“I just… related to being a poor kid growing up,” Evan said, shrugging.

Connor rolled his eyes. “You’re also an amazing strategic thinker, loyal to a fault, and not afraid to stand up for the little guy. All very Ron Weasley.”

Evan smiled awkwardly.

“And really, none of you ever hung out before college?” Graham said, sounding surprised.

“Our high school was cliquey,” Sabrina said.

“Was it?” Connor said, looking genuinely surprised. “I didn’t have friends in high school, I wouldn’t know.”

“See, exactly.” Sabrina sighed, launching into some explanation about the cliques at their high school.

Evan felt something inside of him untwist a little, listening to her talk, watching Connor listen and interject his thoughts from time to time, commenting about teachers who sucked in high school or kids they had grown up with and what they were doing these days (Apparently Brian Harris had gone on to be a lawyer as well, which made Evan feel very weird considering he had threatened to stuff Evan into a locker and leave him there for an entire weekend in middle school). Sabrina and Connor seemed to be at ease with each other now. They were getting along, for him.

They were here most likely because they were worried about him.

It was… strange. To have people who cared, who tried to do what was best for him. To have people he let do that.

At one point while they were eating, Sabrina left the table to use the bathroom a moment after Connor had done the same, leaving Graham and Evan alone at the table. Graham sort of looked sheepishly at Evan, smiling slightly. “I’m sorry we just showed up like that,” he said. “We should have called…”

“It’s fine,” Evan said awkwardly. He and Graham had never really… been alone. Talked, just one on one, and Evan suddenly felt like it was too strange, too weird to be sitting across from his ex’s fiance because, objectively, he should not have ever lived to meet this man. He should have died before he ever got the chance to meet Graham Smith, but he didn’t and here he was, sitting across from this man he barely knew who loved Sabrina enough to come check on her ex with her.

“She worries,” Graham went on. “But she hates that she worries so she…”

“Yeah,” Evan said, understanding. Because Sabrina didn’t want to be a worrier, so instead she would bulldoze her way through a situation with positivity and smiles, trying to make things better. Evan was a fixer, but Sabrina… Sabrina was a smiler. She tried to brighten things and soften them with muffins and brunches and smiles.

It made them a bad romantic match, Evan thought, but maybe it was why they were still friends.

Because she fucking cared and wanted him to feel better, even if her methods weren’t always the ones Evan might choose.

“I appreciate it,” Evan said after a moment. “You guys checking in. Sorry if I was… like. Super awkward.”

Graham grinned. “It’s all good man. The first time I met you, I threatened to tackle your boyfriend so. Still less awkward than that.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Connor returned to the table first, kissing Evan’s cheek once he sat down, and started asking Graham about some book they’d both apparently been reading and Evan relaxed a little. It was alright. This was alright.

After they finished brunch, Sabrina hugged Evan tightly and told her to call him, “don’t just fucking text me okay?” He shook hands with Graham and then he and Connor headed out.

“Did you know?” Evan asked him as they made their way back toward Connor’s apartment.

“That she was just going to show up? No. But I sort of suspected when she texted to ask if you were at my place that she might want to do something.” Connor wrapped an arm around Evan’s shoulders. “I’m sorry if that was too much… I should have said we weren’t going, made up an excuse or something…”

“It was okay,” Evan said quietly. “Probably good that I actually went somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Connor said, his grip on Evan’s shoulders tighter for a second. “You alright?”

“No,” Evan said softly because he wasn’t. He just wasn’t. “But I’m trying.”

Connor kissed the side of his head. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It wasn’t just Sabrina and Mariah who were picking up on Evan falling apart either. His mom seemed to sense there was something going on too, if her phone calls and texts were anything to go off of. She seemed to be “just checking in” a lot more frequently, and Evan felt horrible because there was nothing he could really do to make her less worried. He felt horrible because for all she knew, this was just January but worse, this was him backsliding and he couldn’t do anything to fix it.

“You just seem down, sweetheart,” She said when they spoke last. “Is there anything I can do?”  
“I’m okay,” He said. “Or at least… I’m trying. You know, it’s winter… it can be sort of tough. But thanks, for, you know, checking in. I really appreciate it.”

“Are you… you’re still seeing your therapist, right, baby?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Every week. I swear. I’m just… I’ll be okay.”

“Maybe I should come visit soon. Or you and Connor could come here? It might be nice to get out of the city for a few days.”

“Maybe,” Evan said, trying to imagine sleeping in his twin size bed from childhood with his six-foot-tall boyfriend and kind of laughing at the idea. “It would be good to see you.” He couldn’t commit because what if he died, what if he woke up two years ago, what if his mom disappeared like the mirrors?

“Let’s keep an eye on flights then, okay?”

She kept sending him texts in the mornings, telling him to have a great day or sending silly gifs of kittens, generally stuff that might make him smile. And Evan just… he was really fucking lucky that she cared. And he hated that there was no way he could explain what was really going on, not without her thinking he had absolutely lost his mind. Evan hated lying to her, and he hated that she knew something was wrong at all. Part of him almost missed the comfort of suffering alone sometimes. It was a pain in the ass to prove to people that you were mostly okay because they cared.

He said that to Marcia during one of their more recent sessions and she frowned a little, tapping her pen to her clipboard. She said, “It can absolutely be more difficult to process feelings of depression and anxiety with people who care about you. Especially when you’re a naturally empathetic person. You want to help them through whatever their emotions may be - grief, worry, fear - but they’re having these emotions about you.” She offered him a smile. “It sounds as if you have been doing a lot of hard work to establish boundaries with the people you love. Letting them know where you are at, but also that you know you can handle it. And that is impressive. It’s difficult. Black belt level, even.”

“Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

The store’s not terribly busy the day before Connor’s birthday, which makes the day drag on, which puts Connor on edge. Not that he expected not to be on edge today, but he would have appreciated a busy day, a day that might take his mind off things.

 

Instead, it’s pretty quiet. The weather outside is super gross, so it makes sense that it’s quiet, but it’s kind of the last thing Connor needs right now, a quiet day where he’s left with his own thoughts.

 

He decides that the shelves could all use a good clean, the whole place could use a clean, and as the day progresses he and Leslie dust and reshelve the entire store, which helps a little in terms of making Connor feel like he’s doing something but doesn’t prevent his thoughts from spiralling a little, terrified that tomorrow he’s going to lose Evan.

 

As much as he wants to be confident that it’s not going to happen again, as much as he wants to believe that, to stay strong for Evan who’s so obviously scared, Connor can’t quite get rid of that thought entirely.

 

Which makes sense, he guesses.

 

He’ll feel better once they’ve gotten through his birthday unscathed.

 

Because they will. He’ll make sure of it.

 

Just after four, Sabrina shows up in her bright yellow coat and a fluffy red hat, smiling brightly at Connor and waving a little. “Hello!” she calls out brightly, holding a Tupperware container. “Just stopping by to drop off muffins.”

 

Connor walks over to meet her and takes the muffins, making sure to offer her as genuine of a smile as he can, because they’re trying this whole thing where they’re friendly now.

 

He’s not expecting her to pull him into a tight hug, and he’s a little taken aback, but she smells like candy and she’s soft and warm and it’s not unpleasant.

 

“Happy birthday for tomorrow!” she says as she pulls apart, still smiling but with real concern in her eyes. “Evan said he’s taking the day off to spend with you, so I thought you guys might want snacks. He said you liked my banana muffins, so.”

 

“I did,” Connor admits, trying to smile. “I do. Thank you, that’s really kind of you.”

 

Sabrina’s smile wilts a little. “You guys didn’t tell me that it was your birthday,” she says quietly, and Connor knows what she means. “Since you finally accepted my Facebook friend request, I… I figured out the dates all match up. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Not your fault,” Connor says immediately. “None of it’s your fault, Sabrina.”

 

“I know,” she says, her chin set defiantly. “It doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry.” She hugs him again. “Look after Evan, okay?”

 

“Always.”

 

“And yourself.”

 

Leslie offers to close up the store so Connor can finish early, which is very sweet of her. Evan texts just after six to say he’s on his way home to get some things then will be right over, so Connor sets about getting as much prep for closing done as he can to make things easier.

 

“Do you and Evan have exciting plans for tomorrow?” Leslie asks, dusting the foreign literature shelf as Connor reshelves the travel section. “I’m sure he wants to spoil you for your birthday.”

 

“We’re planning on spending the day together,” says Connor, trying to sound as casual and nonchalant as he can. “Probably won’t leave the apartment.”

 

Leslie nods, her face breaking into a smirk. “Sex cocoon. I see how it is.”

 

Normally Connor would probably blush or be embarrassed or roll his eyes, but instead, he finds himself thinking that a sex cocoon would be a much better way to spend his birthday than sitting around, hoping he doesn’t die or wake up to find that the man he loves has no idea who he is.

 

Connor puts a book about Italy front and center on the display, then looks around and takes in the store. His store.

 

What if he wakes up tomorrow staring into his bathroom mirror and he’s lost it all?

 

Not just the store, but the friendships he’s made. He could barely remember Leslie’s name before he took over as manager. Maureen and Jax only came along this year but he can’t imagine the place without them.

 

Oh god, imagine having to work with Garrett again, fucking _hell._

 

Still… waking up on his 27th birthday, staring into his bathroom mirror but still having Evan know who he is, having Evan remember the last two years off their lives…

 

It’s better than the alternative.

 

It’s better than an Evan who doesn’t know him.

 

It’s better than Evan standing on the roof of his apartment building and…

 

Fuck. Connor has no idea how he managed to talk him down that night, he honestly doesn’t. He’d do it again in a heartbeat, he knows - there’s no universe in which he wouldn’t save Evan, any Evan - but it would break his heart to see Evan like that.

 

To see Evan on the roof of his apartment, so broken and hopeless, with no idea who Connor was other than a vague memory of a signature on a cast nearly a decade earlier.

 

Connor feels himself shiver a little.

 

He’s cold all of a sudden.

 

“You okay?” Leslie asks, looking at him with concern. “You look pale. Well, paler than usual.”

 

“Just tired,” he admits. “And, you know, winter.”

 

Leslie nods, her expression sympathetic. “I’m just relieved my new apartment has actual consistent heating. Remember last year when you let me stay because I got sick and the dump I was living in was basically an icebox?”

 

“I remember,” says Connor with a wince. A thought occurs to him. “Strudel’s surgery is coming up soon, isn’t it?”

 

“In April,” Leslie says with a nod. “I finally managed to get the funds together. Since it’s not urgent, it took a while.”

 

“Do you need some time off?”

 

Leslie looks torn. “I mean, yeah,” she says, frowning a little, “but also I don’t know how much I can afford to take off, you know?”

 

“You’ve got some leave,” Connor says, thinking. “We can work something out if you wanted to take some in advance. How about we just play it by ear closer to the time? I guess it depends on how fast he recovers.” Edgar takes that moment to rub against his ankles and Connor reaches down to let the cat climb up his arm and onto his shoulder. “This little guy bounced back so quickly from his surgery last year, didn’t you Edgar?” He looks back at Leslie. “But I guess you never know.”

 

“Thank you,” says Leslie, looking grateful. “Have I mentioned you’re a really fucking good boss?”

 

Connor shrugs. Feels his cheeks color a little. “Eh, I try.” He offers Leslie a smile. “Helps that you guys are great employees, you know?” He clears his throat, feeling a little overwhelmed for a moment. “You and Maureen and Jax are all… really great. I couldn’t do this whole bookstore thing without you guys.”

 

Leslie looks at him, frowning a little. “Are you sure you’re okay, Connor?”

 

Connor tries to smile again. “I’m okay,” he assures her. “I just really appreciate you guys. You especially, Leslie. You’ve been there since the beginning and have just been really awesome, even when I… even when I wasn’t doing great, you’ve always had my back and really helped me make this whole thing happen, you know?” He swallows. “Fuck, and when I was sick you helped so much by suggesting bringing in Jax. That… it made a huge difference, you know? It gave me that space to focus on my health and get better and… I just couldn’t have asked for better people around me. I really couldn’t.”

 

Leslie puts a gentle hand on Connor’s shoulder. “I love working here,” she says softly. “I really do.” She smiles at him. “You’re getting sentimental in your old age, huh.”

 

“Fuck off,” he says good-naturedly. “You’re like a year younger than me, if that.”

 

Leslie laughs, then pulls him into a hug. She’s a good hugger. Warm and solid.

 

Connor kind of needs that right now.

 

“I hope you and Evan have a really great weekend,” she says when they pull apart. “You seem like you could use a great weekend.” She smiles a little weakly and pats Connor’s arm. “You sure you’re okay? You’re not, like, dying or anything, are you?”

 

Connor’s eyes widen in alarm. “Fuck, I hope not,” he says, trying to make it sound like a joke rather than a metaphorical gut punch.

 

“Me too, dude.”

 

The bell over the door rings and there’s Evan, bundled up in his winter jacket with his backpack slung over his shoulder. His cheeks are pink from the cold and there are bags under his eyes. He looks tired, but he’s still so beautiful.

 

Evan makes his way over to Connor and Leslie and kisses Connor immediately, then smiles at Leslie. “How’s the day been? Thank you for offering to close tonight.”

 

“Not a problem,” Leslie assures them, smiling wide. “You two go enjoy your sex cocoon. Happy birthday, Connor.”

 

Connor takes Evan’s arm gently and leads him upstairs to the apartment. Once they’re up there, Evan laughs a little. “Sex cocoon?”

 

“No harm in letting her think that’s what’s going on,” Connor replies, wincing a little. “It’s not like we can…”

 

“Yeah.”

 

The apartment is warm and smells like roast chicken, which is exactly what Connor has had in the slow cooker all day. “I figured that we should have something we could eat cold for tomorrow,” he says as he pulls the chicken out of the slow cooker. It’s falling apart tender, which is definitely a bonus, and he’s had potatoes on to roast as well, so they sit down to eat.

 

Evan compliments Connor’s cooking, as usual, but they’re both subdued. They sit close to each other at the table, and at one point Evan puts his hand on Connor’s knee and eats with one hand, which Connor appreciates.

 

Being able to feel Evan, that certainty that he’s not something Connor’s made up in his mind, it helps.

 

“How was your day?” Evan asks as they do the washing up, leaning his head on Connor’s shoulder.

 

“Good,” Connor says. “Quiet. You?”

 

“Busy,” Evan sighs, and kisses Connor on the cheek. “But I’m not checking my emails tomorrow or this weekend, I’ve made that very clear.” He smiles a little, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Mariah keeps saying that I obviously need the break and it’s not like I can explain that…”

 

“Yeah,” says Connor softly. He puts the last dish in the drying rack and takes Evan’s hands in his, even though they’re warm and still a little soapy. “I love you.”

 

Evan kisses him. “I love you, too.”

 

When they get into bed to watch a movie, Edgar cuddles up between them, and Connor wonders what would happen to Edgar if time reset itself and all of a sudden he was back two years ago. He wouldn’t have been born yet, obviously, but… what if finding Edgar in that alley was some kind of coincidence? What would have happened to Edgar if Connor hadn’t found him? It was starting to get cold in October but it would have gotten colder still and he was so little and so hungry when Connor found him. He might not have survived the winter.

 

Connor desperately, desperately doesn’t want time to reset on him. He doesn’t want to have to go through it all again.

 

But he will if he has to. He’ll fight for the life he has now. For his bookstore and his friends and his family.

 

For Evan.

 

He’ll always fight for Evan.

 

Evan’s chewing on his fingers, his face pale, and Connor can see he’s chewed his cuticles to bleeding and he hates it, he hates it so much, and he wants to do something, so he kisses the side of Evan’s head and says he’ll be right back, then heads to the bathroom cupboard. He’d picked up some cuticle cream earlier in the year when he’d noticed that Evan had been chewing them more often, which is a sign that things aren’t going so well but he’d been too awkward to offer it to him, not wanting to draw attention to it, not wanting to make his boyfriend feel bad.

 

Tonight, though, he just needs to be able to do something.

 

When he gets back to bed, Evan looks at him questioningly. Connor takes one of Evan’s hands in his, as gently as he can, then puts a dab of cuticle cream on each finger. Evan’s eyes widen and his face flushes and he starts to mumble out an apology, or something like that, but Connor won’t hear it. He just leans in and kisses him.

 

He gently rubs a bit of cuticle cream onto each of Evan’s fingers, kissing each one as he does, and he knows it’s not much in the grand scheme of things, that it won’t prevent them from dying and dying and dying if that’s what tomorrow brings.

 

Connor doesn’t want to think about tomorrow right now.

 

He wants to think about how he and Evan are in bed together, in the apartment Connor owns above the bookstore that he owns, with a tiny stray cat that he rescued curled up between them. He wants to think about how he has employees who have become friends, even family, and how Leslie’s closing up for them tonight so he can have this time with Evan.

 

Evan, who loves him.

 

Evan, who is the love of his life, and loves Connor the way Connor loves him.

 

“I love you,” Connor says softly, holding onto Evan’s hands and pressing a kiss on his knuckles. “I love you so much.”

 

Evan rests his head on Connor’s chest and lets out a shaky breath.

 

Connor doesn’t want to think about tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

Evan didn’t want to think about tomorrow. He didn’t want it to come, he wanted to stop the clocks and maybe actually crawl into a sex cocoon with Connor and not come out of it ever again. He let out a shaky breath, his head on Connor’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his boyfriend’s heart and hating that his first thought was how soon it might stop. How soon it might all stop.

He held on a little tighter then, arms wrapped protectively around Connor, thinking back to how Connor had said he would fight to stay here, fight for this timeline, for this Connor and this Evan and Evan shifted his jaw, screwing up his resolve. He didn’t know if he had that fight in him, if he ever had that fight in him, but he wasn’t going to let that keep him from trying.

He was alive, damn it. Despite everything. He had dragged himself back from the ledge, not alone, definitely not by himself, but ultimately he had been the one to do it. The one who refused to let whatever sickness, darkness that lurked inside him take him. It had not been easy. And if it weren’t for Connor… for Connor, and Marcia, and Mattie and Alex, and his mom… and Sabrina and Mariah and Zoe and the bookstore kids… He probably wouldn’t have done it. Evan wouldn’t have found it in himself to keep going when all he had wanted for a long time, for decades, was an excuse to give up. To quit. To let go of that branch, set off of that rooftop.

He thought back to the second to last time he sat the bar, when the mirrors were gone and the exam room was a forest and Evan had met himself, but younger, in a clearing before the trees. He thought about how seventeen-year-old Evan had been the one who delivered the push that killed him that time.

_“I don’t want to do this anymore.”_

_“We don’t have to. We don’t have to do this anymore.”_

_“But you do.”_

Evan still didn’t know what the actual fuck any of that meant. Seeing himself, interacting with a… memory or a shadow or a ghost of the boy he had been the first time he tried to kill himself, and how whatever that thing was still had the power to kill him.

For a long time, Evan hated himself. Hated the teenager he had been, the teenager who hadn’t managed to die. He hated that a botched attempt hadn’t taken the seductive suggestion of death away from him, and he let himself believe it would always win. That he couldn’t beat it.

He’d said that to Marcia recently. How he blamed his younger self, how if he had gotten his shit together at seventeen he might not be such a mess at twenty-eight. She frowned, slightly, and asked him what he thought the seventeen-year-old version of himself might be trying to tell him. She asked if he could listen to seventeen-year-old Evan.

And Evan. Already had. He knew what was in that kid’s head. And at first, he believed that kid to be right about him, about them. That they were living on borrowed time, that they weren’t supposed to live this long…

But Evan now… He couldn’t let that stand. He couldn’t let the fear of becoming who he had been stop him from fighting his hardest to be who he was now. Evan didn’t want to hate his younger self anymore, he didn’t want to shame him or blame him for the hardships he had endured. He felt sorry for that kid, sorry that he hadn’t reached out or gotten the help he needed when he needed. If he were confronted with his younger self, with a broken arm and an apprentice park ranger uniform today, Evan hoped he would be kinder. Gentler, softer. That he might… Tell younger, other Evan that he didn’t have things quite right. That it would get better with time. He couldn’t allow his teenage self the ability to declare suicide an inevitability anymore. Because Evan had things to do, people he loved. He wasn’t going to let go that easily.

He refused.

He did not have to do this anymore. If he saw that younger Evan today, that’s what he would say, but with more resolve this time because now he was sure. They didn’t have to do this anymore. He did not have to kill himself. And it had taken him a long time, longer than he was prepared to admit, longer than he had let himself believe to actually buy that. Back in September, when Connor wasn’t well… He didn’t believe it then.

But he believed it now.

Evan did not have to kill himself. He did not have to do this anymore.

Even if the thing inside him caused his hands to shake or informed the impulse to bite his fingernails to bleeding and pick his cuticles raw, even if it made him anxious and scared and terrorized him with nightmares, Evan wasn’t going down without a fight. He would go down swinging. He would not accept his death at his own hands as inevitable, circular. He refused.

Because he had people to fight for.

And he had Connor, to help him, to help him recover from that internalized struggle. Connor, who knew everything, _everything_ and loved him. Connor who was kind and warm and loving and had always been, even when he tried not to be that, who had seen a lonely kid with an unsigned cast and related to him, tried to make things better for him more than a decade ago and who had saved Evan’s life in so many ways since.

“Hey,” Evan said softly after a long stretch of silence.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Connor kissed the top of his head. “I love you too.”

“Is there… do you regret anything?” Evan asked him.

Connor gently placed a finger under Evan’s chin, tilting his face up until he was looking at Connor’s face, his gaze difficult to read. “Don’t,” Connor said quietly, his voice pained. “That is goodbye talk and we’re not doing that, Evan. I’m not fucking saying goodbye to you, I can’t-”

“I’m not,” Evan said. He sat up, so he could look at Connor properly, so he could search Connor’s face and eliminate any doubts he might find there. “I’m not saying goodbye either. I won’t, okay? I… I was going to say that I don’t. I don’t regret any of it, not really.”

Connor nodded.

Evan continued, looking into Connor’s eyes, “I’d have done a couple of things differently… I’d have told you I loved you the second I realized. I probably wouldn’t, you know, chose to give myself alcohol poisoning again if given the chance. But where we are now? You and me? I don’t regret how we got here.”

Connor nodded, his gaze hard and his chin set defiantly. “Okay.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Evan said softly, taking Connor’s hand in his. “Okay?”

“I know,” Connor said, looking away slightly, his voice quiet. “We’re both… We’re going to be fine.”

They kissed, their lips brushing together softly. Their arms tight around each other, holding each other. Evan could feel Connor’s heart beating in his chest, in the pulse of his wrists and neck. He loved this man. He loved how alive he was, how defiantly and beautifully alive he was, and Evan was determined to keep Connor that way.

Connor’s fingers traced patterns on Evan’s shoulder, down his arm, and then his fingers stilled suddenly, brushing against the bottom of his t-shirt sleeve.

“What’s this?” Connor said, his fingers pressed into the skin on Evan’s upper arm.

Evan felt his face heat up. “Oh. Well. Uh.” He cleared his throat, ducking his head. “Since we’re staying here, staying in, for uh. Safety. It’s a nicotine patch.”

“Oh,” Connor said softly.

“I’m… I’ve been thinking about trying to quit smoking. Like. More seriously.” He bit his lip. “Probably not until… until we get through tomorrow but. I’d like to try.”

“Okay,” Connor said, pulling him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Okay.”

They didn’t move much for a few hours. The movie ended, the credits rolled, but Evan and Connor stayed in bed, Edgar between them, safe for now. The hours ticked by uneventfully.

 

* * *

 

It’s late when they both take their medication and turn out the lights. Connor knows that neither one of them expects to sleep easily, expects to sleep at all, but somehow Connor finds himself opening his eyes in the dim gray light of morning on his 29th birthday.

 

In the apartment over the bookstore.

 

With Edgar curled up near his shoulder.

 

And Evan, sleeping next to him, his hand still holding Connor’s tightly.

 

Connor knows that logically, he shouldn’t just assume that because things look normal that this is his Evan, the Evan who knows him, the Evan who loves him, but his heart tells him that it is.

 

And if this is his Evan, then he wants him to wake up to the knowledge that he’s with the Connor who knows him, who loves him.

 

Connor kisses Evan’s forehead. Then his cheek. Then his other cheek.

 

He squeezes his hand.

 

He kisses Evan gently on the lips.

 

Evan’s eyes flutter open and he blinks a few times as he looks at Connor, a small smile on his face.

 

“I love you,” Connor says gently. “Good morning.”

 

Evan leans in and kisses him properly. “It’s you,” he says softly, a relieved smile on his face. “I’m so glad that it’s you.”

 

Connor laughs a little, completely relieved that they’re together. “Me too. That it’s you, that…” He leans in and kisses him again. “Fuck, Evan, I’m just so glad that we’re…  I love you so fucking much.”

 

“I love you, too.” Evan smiles, that bright smile that rivals the sun, that lights up the shadows of the early morning. “Happy birthday.”

 

Connor laughs. “Thanks.”

 

They stay in bed, just curled up in each other until Edgar starts meowing, clearly wanting food. He rubs his face against Evan’s, which makes Evan sneeze, and Connor’s suddenly terrified that Evan’s going to have some kind of horrific allergy-related death so gets up quickly to let the cat out, throwing on his bathrobe to combat the chill.

 

Evan follows him out of the bedroom seconds later, like he doesn’t want to let Connor out of his sight, which Connor can definitely relate to.

 

Connor puts down some food for Edgar, who eagerly digs in, purring contently, then goes to the fridge and pulls out some iced coffee, pouring them both a glass. He goes to the pantry and pulls out a Tupperware container, then opens it up and offers Evan one of Sabrina’s muffins.

 

Evan looks a little taken aback. “These look like…”

 

“Sabrina’s muffins,” Connor confirms. “Yeah.” He tries to smile. “She, uh… I finally accepted her Facebook friend request, so she figured out that my birthday was… you know.”

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, his voice sad. He takes a muffin then kisses Connor. “I hate that it’s your birthday. That your birthday is this whole…”

 

“I know,” Connor assures him. “I know.” He takes a muffin of his own, then sets the container on the counter and has a bite. “These are really damn good muffins. I should get the recipe from her.”

 

Evan laughs. “She still wants the recipe for your sweet potato curry.”

 

“Maybe we should have Sabrina and Graham around for dinner next month,” Connor suggests. “I’ll make the sweet potato curry and maybe the apple pie? Blow their minds with our adult hospitality.”

 

Evan looks at Connor, his expression a little surprised. “So you and Sabrina are really friends now.”

 

Connor takes Evan’s hand. “I think we’ll get there,” he says honestly. “We just needed to clear the air. I’m glad we did.” He squeezes Evan’s hand tighter. “Okay, so, coffee and muffins for breakfast. I’ve got bread rolls and leftover chicken for lunch, I figured we UberEats something for dinner. I still don’t really want to risk cooking. But we could do the same thing we did last year.”

 

“Stay in bed and watch movies?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

Once they’ve eaten a couple of muffins each and finished their coffees, they both brush their teeth and wash their faces and head back to bed. Edgar insists on joining them, curling up between them, but Connor picks him up and puts him on the other side away from Evan, just in case his allergies play up.

 

Connor knows that Evan’s only a little allergic to Edgar and it very rarely affects him more than just making him a little itchy, but given that today is the day that it is, he’s not taking any chances.

 

They start with _Thor: Ragnarok_ , which Connor has to admit is his favorite Thor movie, and end up laughing their way through it, which lightens the mood considerably. Evan teases Connor about being a Loki fan and Connor refuses to be ashamed.

 

“You have to admire him,” Connor says as the credits roll. “Not everyone can fuck their way to power.” He leans in and kisses Evan. “I mean, you could if you wanted to. You are _phenomenal_ in bed.”

 

“Connor, oh my god.”

 

“That’s a Slytherin move, right? Fucking their way to power?”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

Evan’s laughing, and Connor just has to kiss him again. Evan responds to the kiss eagerly, and they end up making out for a while, Evan running his hands through Connor’s hair. A part of Connor just wants to keep kissing Evan, to touch him, to make him moan and shiver, to take off his clothes and kiss him everywhere.

 

But that’s not something he thinks he can handle today.

 

They break apart, both a little breathless, and look at each other.

 

“I have a present for you,” Evan says, like he’s just remembered.

 

“Is it pictures of Spider-Man?” Connor asks immediately.

 

Evan cracks up. “No, it’s… give me a minute.” He leans over and pulls something out of his bag, then hands Connor a gift bag. “It’s… it’s not much, but… happy birthday.”

 

* * *

 

Connor smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“You haven’t even opened it yet,” Evan said, smiling.

“I know, but today is… today. And you still got me something. You’re incredible.”

“Of course I got you something,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. “It’s your birthday. If I wasn’t scared of a gas explosion, I’d make you a cake.”

Connor quirked an eyebrow.

“It wouldn’t be a _good_ cake,” Evan said, backtracking. “Maybe next year I’ll _buy_ you a nice cake. Or get Martha to make that crack cheesecake.”

Connor smiled brightly. “I love you,” He said, smiling, before he turned his attention back to the bag. “Can I open this then?”

“Please.”

Evan wasn’t… super sold that this was actually a good gift. He was mostly just hoping he could make Connor laugh, take some of the darkness out of the day. Connor pulled the (biodegradable, made of recycled material) tissue paper back and pulled out the first item. It was a DVD (with a digital download) of _Groundhog Day._

Evan sat back on his heels, waiting anxiously for Connor’s reaction.

Connor’s face split into the widest smile and he started to laugh. “Oh my fucking god, Evan, what the fuck I love you.” He kept laughing, pulling Evan in for a kiss and then laughing against his lips. “You’re adorable, oh man, this is fucking hilarious.”

Evan smiled. “I just… I thought maybe -”

“I love it. You’re fucking amazing, this is perfect holy shit.” He kissed Evan again. “You’re the best.”

“There’s another thing in there,” Evan said smiling.

The second item was a very thin, leatherbound book that Evan had gone searching through several secondhand shops to find. Connor looked at the title, his eyebrows knitted together, reading: “Doubled and Redoubled” by Malcolm Jameson.

“I don’t know this one,” Connor said.

“Okay,” Evan said. “So… Uh. Two years ago, when it was all happening, the loops… There was one night when I was just, you know, trying to figure out just what the fuck was happening. It was before we met,” he added quickly. “And it was so early on that I sort of forgot about it, honestly. But I googled like… reliving the same day, and it led to a Wikipedia page on time loops. And apparently. This short story is an early example of time loops, like, being used as a plot device. And it’s sort of silly and probably weird that I gave it to you, but, I dunno. It’s from the 1940s.” He shrugged, a little sheepish. “It was actually sort of hard to find? I had to go to like… five secondhand bookstores to get my hands on a copy that wasn’t totally falling apart… Yeah.”

Connor smiled at Evan again, looking through the old book, smiling. “I love it. I love you.” He kissed Evan again, soft and slow and wonderful. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Evan said, smiling. “I… I guess. I sort of hope someday this might just be… Something we can laugh about? And not in the sort of nihilistic, defeated way we did when it was happening, you know?”

“Yeah,” Connor said, his voice quiet. “Do you think…” He stopped then. “Nevermind.”

“What?”

“Do you think that… that we’re the only people? Who this happened to?”

Evan didn’t. “I don’t know,” he said, kissing Connor’s cheek. “I guess. I don’t think so? It… It seems sort of weird that it would be a fictional trope and only happen to us, you know? Like who are we, in the grand scheme of things?”

“Bill Murray, maybe.”

“Yeah,” Evan said, rolling his eyes. “We’re _both_ Bill Murray. That’s the grand mystery of the universe.”

Connor laughed a little, smiling.

“I guess… I mean obviously we can’t say for sure, but I don’t think we’re the only ones.”

Connor nodded, his face more serious now. “On New Year’s Eve…”

“Charlie?” Evan said.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I wondered…” Evan kissed Connor’s cheek, taking his hand. “When I had alcohol poisoning… Alex told me that he, like, stopped sleeping? He went nine days without sleeping, started actively hallucinating. He spent some time in a psych ward.” He squeezed Connor’s hand. “And he said that thing about the mirrors.”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck,” Evan said suddenly. “Is my apartment cursed?”  
Connor shook his head. “I don’t know. I hope not. It doesn’t feel cursed.”

“Maybe I should move,” He muttered, not thinking, and Connor kissed him again, like he was hoping to distract Evan from wondering about his potentially cursed apartment, his hands resting on Evan’s shoulders, warm and reassuring.

Connor kissed Evan’s cheek when they broke apart. “Should we watch this?” He said, holding up the DVD.

“Oh… I.” Evan wasn’t sure. He hadn’t seen the movie since he was a kid, and his memories were hazy at best, but he figured it probably couldn’t make the day get any weirder. “Sure. Why not?”

They settled in, curling up together and letting the movie start. Edgar got up, yawning and stretching, and sauntered over to Evan’s side of the bed for belly rubs and purred contentedly. Evan and Connor both looked at each other, surprised, because apparently both of them forgot that the protagonist’s surname was “Connors” until the moment someone uttered it on screen.

“Stop, that’s not real,” Connor said, laughing a little, pausing the movie. He pulled out his phone, googling the film and then laughing harder.

“What?” Evan said, not sure what was going on.

“Look at this,” He said, thrusting his phone under Evan’s nose. “Just. Look at the fucking cast list Evan.”

So he did.

And for a brief moment he felt like he was being punked, like someone was playing an elaborate joke, he glanced behind him to check that nobody had hit him over the head, and pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“What the actual fuck. Phil Connors and… Rita Hanson.”

“What the fuck?” Connor repeated, giggling. “How did neither of us notice?”

“I haven’t seen this since I was a kid,” Evan said, also laughing, a little helpless, a little hysterical, clinging onto Connor because he couldn’t keep upright. “What the fuck.”

“All of the fucking answers were in this movie apparently,” Connor gasped. “What the fuck what the fuck.”

“Bill Murray!” Evan wheezed.

The pair of them laughed so hard they were both almost in tears. The fact was… it wasn’t really objectively that funny. Connors and Hanson weren’t terribly uncommon names.

But the fact that Evan Hansen and Connor Murphy were watching this film on the second anniversary of the February day when they had repeated twenty times… something about that seemed to force them into a weird repetitive feedback loop of emotion, both of them releasing some of the tension caused by the threat of death hanging over them.

“Someone made a musical out of this,” Evan said, looking at Connor’s phone again. “It was on Broadway.”

“What the fuck,” Connor said. “Do they sing about the groundhog?”

“Looks like it.”

Connor laughed again, then unpaused the film.

“I am so glad,” Connor said, when he had composed himself a little bit. “That we didn’t come back to an alarm clock.”

“Oh my god, seriously, I’d have PTSD flashbacks every time I heard Sonny and Cher.”

Connor kissed Evan’s cheek then rested his head against Evan’s shoulder, still laughing a little as he did. They smiled and laughed and commented knowingly at all of the ways Phil tried to deal with constantly repeating his day…

Until of course, they stopped laughing.

Evan had forgotten.

He had forgotten that Phil started committing suicide to try to escape his loops, he had forgotten about driving the car and the groundhog over a cliff, the toaster in the bathtub, being hit by a truck, and finally, jumping off of a bell tower.

Evan wasn’t laughing anymore. Connor had gone totally still against him and then suddenly, violently pulled away, rushing out of the room.

Evan reached out and paused the movie, then followed Connor, horrified, kicking himself for being so fucking stupid. He found Connor in the bathroom, on his knees, throwing up into the toilet.

“Shit,” Evan said, kneeling down beside him, pulling his hair back, rubbing Connor’s back until he was finished being sick. “Fuck, Connor, I am so sorry. I’m an idiot, I forgot, I fucked up, I am so sorry I-”

Connor reached out, flushing the toilet. He was shaking badly, his face seriously so pale he looked almost gray, and he sat back, leaning against the bathtub, his breathing uneven, stilted. Evan didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, he had fucked up, what the hell was wrong with him getting this fucking movie fuck fuck fuck.

“Do you remember it?” Connor asked then, his voice rough. “Do you remember jumping?”

“I…” Evan’s throat had dried up. “I do.” He shook his head. “I didn’t… I just kind of stepped off the first time, I didn’t like flip that way or anything -”

“The first time?” Connor asked sharply, his eyes wide and sort of bloodshot and oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_. “Evan.”

He looked away.

“It… more than once?” Connor clarified, taking Evan’s hand.

Evan nodded.

“How many times?”

“I…” He studied the grout in the bathroom title, his eyes down, ashamed. “I’m not sure. I don’t… I don’t know what counts.” Evan continued to stare at the floor. “There was… the first time. Obviously. And I… Once I tried to take some Valium? But I was. Panicking so hard and… I took too much and overdosed.” Connor’s hand clenched in his. “I don’t… It wasn’t exactly intentional, but it wasn’t… not intentional either.”

“Evan…”

“When things got really weird,” He went on, his voice brittle. “I said that I… I met my younger self? Taking the bar?” He stopped. Cleared his throat. “I… It was really fucking weird, I’m not even sure of the timeline but. It was like. One minute I was climbing a tree, following him up… and the next we were on my roof. And I tried to talk to him, tried to tell him we… that he didn’t have to do it, he didn’t need to jump. And he pushed me.”

Connor took in a shuddering breath, his free hand covering his face.

“I should have told you,” Evan said. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh god, Evan,” Connor said, his voice quiet and gentle. “I am so sorry.”

“ _I’m_ sorry. It was stupid to get you that movie, I wasn’t thinking, I’m so sorry.”

Connor squeezed his hand. “Fuck,” He said softly. “I didn’t know. About the… the other times.”

Evan looked away, feeling his face heating with shame, his eyes stinging. “I… I already put you through hell in the last loop, I didn’t… I thought it might be. _I_ might be. Too much. I didn’t want to put that on you too, not after all you’d already done for me.”

“Jesus, Evan,” Connor said, his voice breaking. Evan wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve, pulling Connor to him, hugging him tight, not giving a fuck that Connor had just thrown up or that they were sitting next to a toilet. He held onto Connor. And Connor cried a bit, and so did Evan, and eventually Connor pulled away. Wiped his face. “The thing that scares me the most sometimes?” He said it so softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have no idea how I convinced you not to jump that night. I have no clue what I said that got through to you. And if you were back there again, I might not… I might not… What if I couldn’t -”

“You said I wasn’t alone,” Evan said, the memory suddenly so clear, even though before it was always muddy and foggy at best. “You said… you couldn’t promise anything else but you could promise I wasn’t going to be alone… And. And that I had to hold on, to just worry about making it… making it through the day.” Evan looked Connor dead in the eye. “I believed you. You were right. You saved me, Connor, and I am so sorry that you had to but… you saved me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Connor can’t stop himself from tearing up. “Of course I did,” he manages to choke out. “Of course I… Evan. Evan, I… I love you so much, I…”

 

He can’t put it into words, how much he loves Evan. How much he hates that Evan was in so much pain, that Evan’s still in pain sometimes, that he has to fight with the darkness in his mind, the darkness Connor knows, too.

 

How much it would destroy him to lose Evan like that.

 

To lose Evan at all.

 

Evan pulls him into a tight tight tight hug and Connor takes in shuddering breaths, trying to collect himself, trying not to fall apart any further.

 

When he pulls away reluctantly, Connor looks straight at Evan. “Was there… were there any other deaths that were…”

 

“Just those three, I think,” says Evan softly. “Connor, I’m so sorry.”

 

Connor shakes his head. “No, no, don’t… I’m sorry you had to go through that, I’m sorry you…” He takes another long, shuddering breath. “I’m just sorry.”

 

They sit there quietly for what feels like a long time, Connor’s back against the bathtub. There’s a dawning realization that he’s sitting against the bathtub, that it’s not the same bathtub but it’s still a bathtub and suddenly he can’t get away fast enough. He clumsily climbs to his feet and scrambles back to the bedroom, Evan right behind him.

 

He climbs into bed and lays his head on his pillow and closes his eyes.

 

He can feel Evan climb into bed next to him, squeezing his hand.

 

“Sorry,” Connor says, trying to explain, not opening his eyes. “Just… sorry, I couldn’t…” He opens his eyes finally and looks at Evan. “The bathtub kind of… freaks me out sometimes.”

 

There’s something like understanding in Evan’s eyes and he looks so, so sad. “Connor, I’m so sorry.”

 

“It was… the bathtub from the house I grew up in?” He takes another shaky breath. “When things got weird for me, it was there. The same bathtub I… in senior year. It was in the bathroom, in the corner of the bathroom in my old apartment with Andi, even though it… couldn’t be there.” He closes his eyes, remembering. Seeing it in his mind’s eye. “Everything got… when things got weird, it was like I was looking at my life from the outside, like I was… wasn’t really there. And things disappeared and I… I coughed up a razor blade underneath a street lamp, the same razor blade that I…” He opens his eyes reluctantly to see tears running down Evan’s face. His own vision is blurry. “And Zoe was there, even though she couldn’t have been. She told me… as I was dying, she told me I had to hold on.” Connor swallows. “It’s what she said to me, when she found me senior year. When she dragged me out of the bathtub. That’s why I… I wanted you to hold on. I need you to hold on.”

 

Evan’s grip on his hand gets tighter. “I’m holding on,” he promises, his voice rough. “I held on then, and I’m holding on now.” Evan pulls Connor’s hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

 

They lie there together for what feels like a long time, hands clasped together tight.

 

After a while, Evan reaches out and tucks Connor’s hair behind his ear. Connor knows his hair is gross and damp with sweat from puking and puking, but Evan doesn’t seem to care.

 

“Maybe we should get your bathroom redone,” he suggests, his voice light. “Get a new shower, take out the bathtub.”

 

Connor blinks. “I… hadn’t thought of that.” He nods. “Yeah. That could be… yeah.”

 

Evan smiles a little. “It’s not like you’d fit in that bath anyway.”

 

“It’s pretty short,” he agrees, smiling a little. He sighs. Moves closer to Evan, who wraps his arms around him and holds him tight. They lay there for a while and Connor laughs a little.

 

“What?”

 

“I just… getting the bathroom redone,” Connor says with a small chuckle. “That’s so… grown-up.”

 

Evan rolls his eyes. “Connor, you own an apartment and a business.”

 

“And you’re a lawyer,” Connor points out. “We’re both grown-ups now.” He kisses Evan on the cheek. “It’s… it’s a weird feeling, you know.” He’s not sure he should say what he’s about to but finds it coming out anyway. “When I was in high school I just… I couldn’t imagine being an adult. I genuinely, honestly didn’t think I’d live this long.”

 

Evan’s voice is soft when he replies. “Neither did I.”

 

Connor feels a chill go through him. “I’m so glad we did.”

 

“Me too.”

 

Evan runs his hand through Connor’s hair again, then another time, like he’s trying to reassure himself that Connor’s there. That he’s real.

 

Connor can relate to that.

 

“What about you?” Evan says after a while, his voice so so soft. “Any other horrifying deaths I need to know about?”

 

“I choked to death on garlic bread once.”

 

Evan rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t seem to have put you off garlic bread, though, has it?”

 

Connor smiles, then winces a little as a thought occurs to him. Evan’s eyes narrow a little, as though he’s reading Connor’s expression. Before Evan can demand Connor tell him, he relents. “I… after you and I… when we argued after we had sex that first time and then didn’t talk for a couple of loops, there was that one loop that went for longer? So long that I thought maybe it had all stopped.” Evan nods, as if remembering. Connor laughs a little, utterly humorlessly. “That one ended with the Alana bus. But the one after that…” He swallows, not sure if he should continue, but the look on Evan’s face says he’s not going to let it go, so he keeps going. “I spent that one with Margot and Eddie. I just did, like, a fuckton of drugs with them. Got really, ridiculously high, then came back to the bathroom.” A shiver goes through him. “I must have overdosed. It wasn’t…” He sighs. “Like you said, it wasn’t intentional, but it wasn’t… not intentional.”

 

Evan holds him tighter. “Fuck.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Evan looks right at him, frowning deeply. He sighs. “I… I’m kind of glad you don’t really talk to them anymore. Not that I have any right to tell you who you should be friends with, or anything like that, I’m just…”

 

“Yeah,” Connor says, nodding. “I… it’s just not… yeah.” He takes in a deep breath. “Okay.”

 

Evan laughs a little. “Okay?”

 

“We’ve talked about horrifying deaths for long enough,” Connor says, trying to keep his voice light. “It’s still my birthday, and I vote we have some chicken sandwiches.” His mouth still tastes sour from puking. “And I should probably brush my teeth.”

 

“Rinse your mouth first,” Evan says immediately. “If you brush your teeth right after puking you could erode the enamel.”

 

Connor smiles a little. “I know how seriously you take dental hygiene.”

 

“It’s important.”

 

They get up. Connor rinses his mouth a few times to get rid of the sour taste of vomit, then brushes his teeth, then rinses his mouth again and heads into the kitchen, where Evan is putting together chicken sandwiches. They eat quietly and carefully at the kitchen table, Edgar rubbing up against Connor’s ankles. Connor feeds Edgar little bits of chicken, which he seems to enjoy immensely.

 

Once they’ve eaten and had some water, Connor suggests they finish the film.

 

“Are you sure?” Evan asks, frowning a little.

 

Connor nods. Smiles softly. “He gets out in the end,” he says, his voice gentle. “I think… I think we need to see that.”

 

They get back into bed to finish watching Groundhog Day, Edgar Allan Paw curled up at their feet. Connor rests his head on Evan’s chest and Evan plays with Connor’s hair absently, like he’s trying to stay grounded, and Connor really likes it, really likes how soft and warm Evan’s hands are.

 

“Maybe I should have learned French while we were in the loops,” Connor jokes as the film continues.

 

“Or the piano,” Evan suggests.

 

Connor looks up at Evan. “Hey, guess what?”

 

“What.”

 

“Je t’aime.”

 

Evan laughs a little. “I love you, too, dork.”

 

* * *

 

After they finished _Groundhog Day,_ Evan and Connor curled up together in bed, just sort of looking at one another, talking in quiet voices until they both admitted they were pretty exhausted.

“I didn’t really sleep last night,” Evan admitted. “I kept… It’s stupid, but I kept thinking if I could stay awake, nothing would happen.”

“Yeah,” Connor said, his smile drooping a little sadly. “I tossed and turned a bit too.”

Evan reached out, gently tucking a piece of hair behind Connor’s ear and leaving his hand to rest gently on the side of Connor’s face. “We could sleep a while? I think we’ll be okay.”

“Mrow,” Edgar Allan Paw said from the foot of Connor’s bed.

“See? Edgar’s watching out for us,” Evan said, and Connor smiled at him, a small but genuine smile.

“He’s very protective.”

“Who knew you took in a guard cat,” Evan said, smoothing down some of Connor’s hair. “You wanna sleep?”

Connor nodded, capturing Evan’s hand and kissing his wrist as he pulled away. He pulled Connor closer, his back tucked up against Evan’s chest, and Evan buried his face in the space between Connor’s neck and shoulder, kissing Connor there a few times, his arms around him protectively and before long, Evan was able to close his eyes and drift off.

He didn’t really dream in any coherent way. Flashes of Connor’s face crossed his mind, but in them, he was always smiling, always grinning or laughing. Happy dreams, or half dreams. Whatever.

Evan woke up first, but he didn’t move for a long time. He stayed put, breathing Connor in, liking Connor’s warm weight pressed against him. At some point while they slept, Edgar had curled up on Evan’s hip. He was purring now, his eyes closed, and Evan was suddenly filled with a sudden sense that this was exactly where he was meant to be. In this bed, with Connor, and Connor’s cat…

It might have felt a little premature of a thought to have about someone Evan had literally only been dating for six months… but this felt like home. Connor was his family… and Edgar too, apparently.

And that was something. Something precious and strange and wonderful.

In the space of two years Evan had gone from the loneliest place in the world to being someone who had people. Who had love. Who co-parented a cat. He was so far from where he had been two years ago.

They both were.

After a while, Connor opened his eyes.

“I love you,” Evan said softly.

“Still you?” Connor checked sleepily.

“Still me.”

“Good.” He rolled to face Evan, burying his face in Evan’s neck, and Evan held on tight, stroking Connor’s hair.

Eventually, after a few more hours of laying around, Connor nervously said he felt a bit gross, having not showered after he had thrown up.

“I think you can risk it,” Evan said. “If it’ll make you feel better, I can sit outside the door or something.” If it were any other day, he would just say they should shower together. If it were any other day, Evan wouldn’t think twice about it, he’d just climb right in with Connor…

“That would be good,” He said, smiling. “But. Maybe we keep the door open?”

“Alright.”

So Evan sat just outside of the bathroom door, talking to Connor the whole time while he showered and washed his hair. After Connor was safely wrapped up in a towel, Evan also decided to risk the shower, and Connor stood in the doorway, saying something about how he should start buying Evan a bottle of his own soap to keep there.

“I like yours,” Evan said, rinsing off. “Now I smell like you.”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “But maybe I want to smell like you sometimes too.”

Evan smiled to himself before grabbing a towel and carefully, gingerly climbed out of the tub to dry off. “I guess I wouldn’t mind that.”

“And, you know. Maybe. You could. Keep your stuff in a drawer here. If you wanted.”

Evan smiled. “As opposed to now, where I’ve got a suit in your closet and a few random t-shirts here?”

“Yeah,” Connor said, his face a little flushed. “Maybe, if we’re feeling really crazy once we live through today, we could get you a whole dresser.”

Evan didn’t know what to say. He smiled, his heart so full and warm and achy but in a good way. “I love you. I’d love that.”

“I’d love it too.”

He kissed Connor softly, a chaste kiss, to reassure himself that Connor was there and here was real and he was alive and it was nice.

If it were any other day, Connor would have probably pulled the towel from around Evan’s waist and they would have had slow, lazy, meandering sex that lasted ages.

But it wasn’t.

So instead, Evan and Connor trooped back to Connor’s bedroom. They put on fresh pajamas and Connor towel dried his hair. Evan realized that Connor was wearing Evan’s NYU School of Law t-shirt and he thought, really, it looked so much better on Connor. Evan pulled Connor in for a hug, reassuringly warm and comforting, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Hey, guess what?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” Evan said, smiling.

“You’re stealing my lines, Hansen,” Connor said, smirking.

“Yeah, but they’re good ones.”

“I love you too,” Connor said after a moment. “Even if you are a thief.”

They agreed to return to their movie marathon, finding some romcom called _Friends With Benefits_ and cuddled up in bed with Edgar. The movie had both of them laughing for most of it, recognizing woefully all of the shit that they had done when they were trying to pretend they weren’t in love with each other but just friends who had sex.

“Oh god,” Evan said as Mila Kunis’s character started to date a doctor named Parker. “His name is even fucking _Parker_.”

“Yikes, our lives are basically movies, huh?” Connor said, smiling.

“I think it’s a bit unrealistic that they skipped the part where Justin Timberlake creeped on all of Parker’s various social media profiles and got increasingly jealous with each swipe and also probably learned Parker’s parents’ address accidentally-on-purpose.”

Connor stared at Evan. “You were _so_ jealous, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Evan said, kissing him. “I was obnoxiously jealous. And I’m sorry.”

“You were the one who told me to date someone!” Connor said with an awkward laugh.

“Yeah,” Evan said. “I was kind of hoping you’d realize I meant _me_. But then I chickened out.”

“We’re useless,” Connor said kind of fondly, pressing a kiss to Evan’s cheek.

“We got there eventually.”

“Yeah.”

After the movie ended, and Connor kept singing along to “Closing Time” by Semisonic, they ordered a mountain of Chinese food for dinner. They ate dinner around Connor’s table, the mood considerably lighter than it had been the night before, with Connor teasing Evan when he got soy sauce on his chin and Evan stealing a bite of Connor’s noodles and Edgar trying to run off with half of a piece of sesame chicken. They laughed a lot more than Evan expected them to that day. They laughed, and chewed their food thoroughly, and climbed back into bed with full bellies and a lot of leftovers for the weekend.  


* * *

 

They wake up on Saturday morning to a beam of sunlight sneaking through a gap in the curtains, brighter than it has any right to be at the end of February. Edgar makes his way into the beam, pawing at the particles in the air like he’s trying to catch them, and Connor finds himself laughing at the sight.

 

Evan’s laughing too, and they exchange a look that says everything.

 

That they’re glad they’re alive.

 

That they’re glad they’re in the same universe.

 

That they’re glad they have each other.

 

“I was thinking,” Connor says, his voice matter-of-fact, “that we could get brunch.”

 

Evan smiles at him, that bright smile that outshines the beam of sunlight peeking through the curtains. “The diner where we didn’t die?”

 

“Sounds good to me.”

 

Not even twenty minutes later, they’re bundled up in their winter coats, carefully making their way down the stairs and into the bookstore, where Maureen is going through the opening procedure. She smiles when she sees them.

 

“How was the sex cocoon?”

 

Evan turns pink and Connor genuinely laughs. “That’s an HR complaint, right there,” he says with a grin.

 

Maureen laughs, then sighs wistfully. “Ugh, you guys are cute. Between you two being adorable and Leslie’s non-stop gloating about how her new girlfriend Camille can bench-press her and has a pierced tongue, I’ve never been so aware that I’m single.”

 

Evan looks at Connor with a mischievous grin. “What do you think? Shall we hook Maureen up with one of your lesbians?”

 

“Connor has lesbians?”

 

“Connor has _so many lesbians,_ oh my god.”

 

“You make it sound like I’ve got a closet full of them, Jesus fuck.”

 

“A closet full of lesbians,” Maureen says wistfully. “Sounds amazing.”

 

“Kind of like binders full of women.”

 

“Oh my god, _Connor.”_

 

It’s not warm out, but the sun is shining brightly. Connor and Evan head in the direction of Pete’s Diner hand in hand, not in too much of a hurry, just enjoying the sun and each other’s company. They’re a few blocks away when Connor hears something he recognizes, and they turn the corner to see a figure playing guitar across the street.

 

Something twists strangely in Connor’s chest at the sight of Otis, with that same unkempt hair, in a jacket that doesn’t look nearly warm enough for the winter.

 

Connor doesn’t know the song he’s playing but he recognizes it from that night.

 

Something sad and hopeful, all at the same time.

 

“Shit,” Evan murmurs, his voice soft. “I haven’t seen him since… September.”

 

“You saw him in September?” Connor asks, looking at Evan. “I don’t think I’ve seen him since the loops.”

 

Evan’s face softens a little. “I saw him in August, the morning after the launch party for the store,” he says softly, frowning a little. Connor’s heart clenches. “And then I saw him the night we talked in September. When I left to go get our medication. I gave him Thai food.”

 

“Good,” says Connor softly, squeezing Evan’s hand tightly. He keeps looking at Otis’s jacket. It’s nowhere near thick enough for someone who spends most of their time outside. “He must be cold.”

 

“Yeah,” says Evan, sounding concerned. He looks around and then something in his expression shifts. Connor follows his gaze to see that they’re two doors down from an army surplus store.

 

They exchange a look, then head inside. Half an hour later, they have a sturdy backpack full of socks, thermal underwear, shirts, sweaters and other assorted things that’ll hopefully help keep Otis warm, including a pair of combat boots that remind Connor of his high school self.

 

There’s an argument over who’s going to pay and when Connor suggests they split it down the middle, Evan somehow convinces the cashier to take the whole payment from him when he goes to pay first, which is such a Slytherin move Connor just has to kiss him.

 

Then they head out of the store with the backpack, toward the corner where Otis is still playing that same strangely familiar song. He strums a final chord then looks at them, an expression of slight confusion on his face.

 

“Do I know you?” he asks, his voice soft and almost hesitant.

 

“Honestly, I have no idea,” says Evan matter-of-factly. He offers Otis a smile, then hands him the backpack. “This is for you.”

 

Otis’s eyes widen. He takes the backpack carefully, almost like he doesn’t believe it’s there, then opens it to look through the contents and his eyes widen more. “Thank you,” he says, his voice a little hesitant but still soft, and a little rough around the edges. “This is… thank you.”

 

“Stay safe,” Connor feels compelled to say.

 

Otis looks right at him, his gaze unafraid and piercing. “You’re gentler now, aren’t you?”

 

Connor feels a shiver go through him. He’s about to ask what Otis means when the guitar player puts down the backpack and strums his guitar experimentally.

 

“Any requests?”

 

“Something hopeful,” Evan says, his voice strong.

 

He squeezes Connor’s hand.

 

Otis smiles and starts playing. His instrument and his voice ring out in the mid-morning sun.

 

Connor squeezes Evan’s hand gently, closes his eyes and lets the warmth of the sun shine on his face.

 

* * *

 

They stand and listen to Otis play until he finished his song, his voice clear and bright, much like the frigid February day. When the last note died, Evan and Connor applauded, their claps muted by the gloves they wore, and then Otis gave them each a smile and started to pack up his case and his new backpack. He headed off after a few minutes, saying something about the library.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Evan asked Connor.

“I hope so,” Connor said, taking Evan’s hand again. “I really hope so.”

They made their way to The Diner Where They Didn’t Die just as a server inside hung up a sign in the window advertising a campaign fundraiser for Alana Beck, who was apparently considering a bid for city council. Evan stared at it for a moment, the words causing his stomach to flip uncomfortably, and his first impulse was to drag Connor out of this diner, retreat back to his apartment, and refuse to participate in society until the menace that was Alana Beck’s political career was no longer a threat.

But really, Evan knew that was just his anxiety talking. And he tried to take that information in without letting it be the deciding factor. Yes, Alana running for office had been a bad sign in the past, but Evan knew it wasn’t going to kill them. So he pushed forward, inside the diner, still holding onto Connor’s hand.

Baby steps.

“She’s going to be president at this rate,” Evan said, pointing out the sign as their server led them to a booth.

Connor shook his head. “I’ll vote for her if she doesn’t get us killed.”

“Are you even registered to vote?” Evan asked Connor teasing.

“I…” He shrugged, a little sheepishly. “I guess I never really saw the point?”

“Connor, seriously?” Evan said with a laugh. “You cannot be with me and not vote! You talk all this big talk about creating safe spaces for queer people and creating a sense of community and you don’t vote?!”

Connor gave Evan this total shit-eating grin.

“Oh my god, you’re fucking with me,” Evan realized.

“Of course I’m fucking with you,” Connor said, kissing Evan’s hand. “I can’t be _your_ boyfriend and not vote. To quote a wise man I admire greatly, ‘There’s too much on the line to risk being politically lazy.’”

Evan felt his cheeks get warm. “ _I_ said that.”

“You did,” Connor said, smiling.

“It’s from my closing argument from that eco-activist case,” Evan said, frowning, trying to figure out where Connor had heard that before. “From back in like, October? Where did you…?”

“You were practicing it when I was napping one day,” Connor said, smiling, his thumb running across Evan’s knuckles, then his fingertips. His cuticles did admittedly look better after whatever it was Connor put on them the other day. “Do you always practice your closing arguments in front of Edgar?”

Evan smiled, only a little embarrassed. “He’s a good listener. Very attentive.”

“Even when he’s licking his butt.”

“Of course,” Evan said with a smile. “You’re actually registered to vote?”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “I like. Give a shit about my community. Even if I think most politicians are hacks.”

“They are, you’re not wrong.”

“The exception being Alana Beck, of course.”

“Naturally. Just in case she or her fleet of buses are listening.”

“Plus my boyfriend is this hot-shot environmental lawyer, and I kind of get the impression that doing my civic duty might get me laid.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” Evan said with a laugh. “‘I voted’ stickers get me all hot and bothered.”

They laughed at their own silliness, directing their attention back toward the menu. Connor needled Evan about how he was going to get scrambled eggs, and Evan teased him saying that they should have just stayed home and eaten leftover Chinese. Evan started debating pancakes or French Toast out loud, while Connor sipped his coffee and smirked at him.

“What?” Evan asked, oblivious.

“Did you just say ‘home?’” Connor said, his face surprised but happy and Evan realized his slip.

“Shut up,” Evan mumbled, blushing. “I haven’t even touched my coffee yet, cut me a break.”

“You love me,” Connor said in an almost mocking tone. “You’re totally in love with me.”

“Yep,” Evan said boldly, smiling at Connor. “I’m totally in love with you.”

The words made Connor smile, and that made Evan seriously so happy to see him smiling. Their booth was warm and awash with bright winter sunlight, and that made Connor’s skin glow and his hair look almost golden. Evan loved him like this. Relaxed, smiling, teasing Evan about stupid stuff that made them both laugh. It twisted Evan up inside, it hurt, it ached, and it hollowed him out… but in a way he wasn’t used to, a way he had never experienced before because it was warm and strangely comforting.

Connor reached across the table and took Evan’s hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze. Evan squeezed back. He wasn’t an optimist. Evan also usually wasn’t a person who was terribly certain about a lot of things. But he knew he loved Connor. And when he heard Connor’s next words, Evan knew Connor loved him back.

“Me too,” Connor said, “I’m totally in love with you too.”

“Think we’ll make it to vote for Alana in November?” Evan asked.

“Absolutely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. We love you.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Bleacher's "Goodmorning."


End file.
